Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)

Setting: Saturday, August 26th, 2006--moments after my arrival home from Camp Sissy Curls--being held in my father's arms. Just where part 64 of Camp Sissy Curls leaves off.

My father planted more loving kisses on my cheeks and then set me down to inspect me more closely. He primped my curls and ribbons and adjusted mt dress over my petticoats, much like any “mother” would do to her little girl. He was a natural at it. But he was my “father”! But then, I figured, he'd probably had a lot of practice at it from when he was a boy my age in ribbons and curls and dresses and petticoats.

“Oh Stephie!” He gushed. “You're just too pretty for words!” And he gave me a look that, I swear, had a hint of longing and maybe even envy in it. A fond look of rememberances of days past for him.

Then he interrupted his obviously nostalgic memories and said, “Laura, will you please go upstairs to your room and play awhile? Your mother and I want to have a talk with Stephie.”

“Aw, do I gotta? I wanna play with Stephie.” She replied.

“Yes, you have to.” He said. “Off you go.”

As she headed upstairs, father took my hand and walked me over to the sofa. “Sit down honey. And be sure to sit like a proper little lady!”

Of course, I knew how to sit like a “proper little lady”. But what wrankled me was that my father probably knew how to sit like a “proper little lady” too. It shed a whole new light on him. A view that certainly made it easier to be a little girl in front of him. And a view that explained a lot of things. But it also caused much disappointment for me in him.

My father and stepmother sat in two armchairs across from me. My stepmother spoke first. “Stephie, it's our intention to keep you as a pretty little girl until further notice. But we're going to up your age to eight years old like Laura. That's a more realistic age for your size.”

“Calm down Stephie.” My father said. “It's for your own good sweetie. Trust me, I know.”

“But I want to be a boy again!” I cried.

“Relax Stephie.” Stepmother interjected. “You'll get to be a boy too. And soon. In about a week and a half on the Tuesday after Labor Day, you go back to school. And you can't go back to school as a girl. You have to go back to school as Stephen.”

“Phew!” That was a relief I thought.

Dad continued. “So you see Stephie, at school you get to be my thirteen year old son Stephen. But here at home and everywhere else, you'll be a pretty eight year old little girl. The best of both worlds! And Laura will have someone her age to play with.”

“Yeah right. The best of both worlds.” I muttered. It sounded so awful but at least, I'd get to be a boy again when I was at school.

“But do I have to wear and use diapers?” I begged.

“Yes you do. But only when you're Stephie.” Stepmother replied.

“ONLY when I'm Stephie!” I groaned. “But that'll be most of the time! Why are you doing this to me?”

My stepmother was getting angry now. “Stop your complaining this minute or we'll send you to school as Stephanie!!!”

That shut me up quickly.

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part2

Dad looked at my stepmother. “Joan, let's get Laura back down here and in on the conversation.”

Stepmother got up and went to the stairs and called to Laura to come back down. With Laura seated on the sofa next to me, dad continued. “Laura, listen very carefully because your mother and I expect you to do exactly as we say. Until further notice, your stepbrother will remain as Stephanie.”

“Yes!!!” Laura giggled and clapped lightly.

“Stop it Laura.” Stepmother scolded.

Dad continued. “Don't interrupt again Laura, just listen. He will be Stephanie at all times with one, and only one, exception. He will be your thirteen year old stepbrother when he goes to school which starts up again for both of you in a little over a week. But at all other times, like when he gets home from school or on weekends or holidays, he'll be our pretty little Stephie!”

“Please no dad. I want to go back to being a boy all the time!” I pleaded.

“Sorry, but it's for your own good Stephen--ah--I mean Stephie.” He replied.

Dad turned his attention back to Laura. “Now this is very important Laura, so pay close attention. When your stepbrother is Stephen, you're to treat him as such, just like before. A thirteen year old boy. But when he is Stephanie, which will be most of the time when you're around him, he's an eight year old little girl like you.”

With anger in her voice, stepmother interjected. “Laura, I'm hoping Stephie will be a good example for you. You're such a Tomboy! A little girl like you should wear pretty dresses and hair ribbons. You know, your stepbrother's dresses and petticoats and things should fit you very nicely too!”

“I'm not dressing up like a sissy like him!” Laura shouted.

Stepmother countered. “If you don't cooperate Laura, you could find yourself in more than just pretty dresses and petticoats. You'll find yourself wearing and USING diapers too!!”

That shut her up, thankfully, I thought.

“Now girls.” And I winced at dad's use of the word “girls”. “This next part is especially important so pay extra close attention. When Stephen is Stephen, he's my thirteen year old son.” And then he looked specifically at Laura. “When Stephen is Stephanie, SHE'S my NIECE, the daughter of my sister and brother-in-law, who's staying with us while her parents are out of the country on business, like I was.”

He took a breath and continued. “Stephie can't be a daughter in this house that just, somehow, popped out of nowhere girls.”

“Let me explain it Steve.” Stepmother said to dad. “It's simple girls. STEPHIE is our niece and your cousin Laura.” She glanced at Laura. “STEPHEN is our son and your stepbrother, like before, Laura. Understand girls?”

We both nodded “yes”.

“Are you sure you both understand girls?” Dad asked.

We both nodded “yes” again. And Laura giggled and I cried.

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part3

“Well, now that that's settled, it's past dinner time. We need to eat. Let's go out for dinner and celebrate Stephie's return back home from camp.” Stepmother and Laura eagerly agreed with dad's suggestion. I just sobbed and moaned at the idea.

“Laura, go upstairs and wash up and get dressed in something more presentable.” Stepmother said.

“Aw mom, do I gotta?” Laura groaned.

“Yes Laura, you gotta! Unless you'd like me to pick out one of your stepbrother's pretty dresses for you to wear!”

Without a word, Laura dashed upstairs.

“You're perfect as you are Stephie. Unless you need a diaper change?” Stepmother asked.

I shook my head side to side, as tears streamed down my face.

“Good girl. Clean and dry.” Stepmother praised me as she wiped my tears with a tissue. “Calm down Stephie, you're an old pro at doing the pretty little girl routine. Nobody will think you're anything other than that.”

“Yeah, but if we run into anyone who knows me, they'll surely realize I'm Stephen!” I cried.

“Not a problem sweetie! If anyone wonders about you being Stephen, the explanation is simple. You and Stephen are cousins and you both have always had an uncanny resemblance to each other. It'll work. If it happens and I'm around, let me do the explaining. Otherwise, you can explain it clearly enough.”

Her words didn't instill a lot of confidence in me.

We went to a nearby Applebee's. Being Saturday night, it was mobbed. As we stood in line waiting to be seated, I fidgetted and continuely tugged at the hem of my dress to keep my petticoats from showing, or even worse, my diapered and rhumba pantied behind from being displayed to everyone. My eyes darted back and forth looking for anyone I recognized. Mercifully, I recognized nobody. But I certainly got a good share of looks from the crowd, especially in comparison with Laura who was dressed like any normal eight year old girl in jeans and a short sleeved T-shirt. Her simple outfit made my frilly attire seem even more sissyish. But, at least, no one seemed to think I was anything other that a very prissy little girl. Laura, of course, revelled in the whole situation. I just did my best to smile with girlish glee over my pretty outfit.

Eventually, we were seated at a table, which of course, proved to be quite a battle for me with my dress and petticoats. I fought with little success to keep them from “poufing” up all around me. And that caused some giggling from nearby diners. But the most giggling came from Laura who relished in my plight.

“Stop it Laura or you'll see what it's like the next time we go out.” Dad thankfully admonished.

Midway through dinner, I felt a pressing need to pee. I hadn't used my diapers in any way all day. I didn't panic though. If I peed, so long as it wasn't a flood, I'd be okay. Providing I didn't leak, which shouldn't happen as I was very heavily diapered. And there wouldn't be any overpowering smell, like if I pooped.

I slowly let go with the waterworks, a few trickles at a time. By the time desert was served, I had relieved myself completely and nothing had leaked at all. I was wet and squishy but I was okay with that. I had certainly worn a lot worse diapers in my day. I was just glad I hadn't needed to poop. That horrendous smell would have been a dead giveaway. And no one was the wiser.

But as dad and stepmother sipped their after dinner coffee and waited for the bill, I felt another urge. And I reseigned myself to not poop my diapers until we were home, or at the very least, out of the restaurant. I fought with my bowels and, thankfully, about ten or so minutes later we were on our way out the restaurant door.

As we crossed the parking lot for the van, I really started to have a dire need to poop. I managed to make it into the back of the van, seated and buckled in with Laura beside me.

It was about a fifteen minute ride to home. Surely I could hold out that long, I thought.

But only a few short minutes away from the restaurant, I could hold out no longer. I, silently at least, thoroughly pooped myself.

And, within moments, Laura gasped and shouted. “Oh geeze, I think Stephie just pooped her diapers mom. Phew! She stinks awful. Roll down the windows.”

I was in tears. The smell quickly reached the front of the van and dad hit the power windows switches.

“Oh God, now I gotta ride the rest of the way home next to Little Miss Poopie Pants!” Laura complained.

Laura said nothing more for the rest of the ride home. She just kept her nose pinched and gasped for breath.

Hearing Laura get her comeuppance from my stepmother actually cheered me up a bit and I stopped crying. Now I revelled in the thought that maybe someday, before too long, she'd find herself in a frilly sissy dress and petticoats and wet, poopy stinky diapers like me. Oh that would be such fitting justice I thought.

The sun was just starting to set as we pulled into the driveway. I made my way into the house as quickly as possible to avoid any inquiring eyes. As we entered the front door, stepmother said. “Just stand here in the living room Stephie for a moment while I hang up my sweater and put my purse away.”

Laura whisked past me, still pinching her nose and said only, “Yuck”, as she raced upstairs for her bedroom to avoid my smell. Dad hung his car keys on the key rack in the kitchen and returned to the living room just as stepmother did.

Dad sat in his armchair and stepmother approached me. She surely must have found my “fragrance” offensive, but she didn't show it. She was, afterall, an adult and a mother.

“We gotta get you cleaned up and ready for bed Stephie.” She said as she removed my hair ribbon and the necklace and earrings she'd given me for my birthday. Then she knelt down and unbuckled my Mary Janes and helped me out of them and my anklets.

“Okay sweetie, arms up. Let's get you out of your pretty party dress and petties before your messy diapers do any damage to them.”

A minute later, I stood there in nothing but my stinky diapers and rhumba panties and training bra as stepmother inspected my dress and petticoats. She smiled. “Good, no leaks of any kind The outfit's perfect.” And she laid them on the sofa.

“Stephie, I gotta run a tub for you and hang up your outfit and lay out your night clothes. I won't be long but in the meantime, go outside and sit on the patio so you don't stink up the house any more than you already have.” Stepmother said as she pointed to the back patio sliding door.

“Like this!!!” I cried. “But someone might see me!”

“No they won't Stephie. It's dark now and you know the backyard is pretty secluded. Just don't turn on the patio flood lights.” And she took my clothes and things in hand and headed upstairs.

I looked at my father.”Dad???”

“Go on Stephie, you'll be fine.” Was all he said as he looked up from the newspaper he was reading.

I pushed open the patio door and peeked outside to see that the coast was clear. I made a quick dash for a plastic patio chair under the cover of a large potted shrub in a corner of the deck and quickly sat down in my stinky, squishy mess. I sat and stared at the patio door waiting for my stepmother to come back.

But less than a minute later, Laura appeared in the patio doorway holding a can of soda she'd just gotten from the refridgerator. She waved at me and giggled and locked the sliding glass door and turned the patio flood lights on and walked away.

I wanted to kill her but didn't dare move from the cover of the potted shrub. Thankfully, a long few minutes later, the patio lights went out and the door opened and stepmother stepped out onto the deck.

“Stephie, you silly girl, I told you not to turn on the lights!” She said.

“I didn't. Laura did that and locked the patio door.”

“Oh, well I'll speak to her later about that.” She said.

It was becoming quite evident that Laura was going to be very troublesome for me.

Stepmother motioned me inside. “C'mon, I'll get you cleaned up and ready for bed Stephie.”

As we walked past dad in the living room for upstairs, I stopped and said. “Dad? Stepmother? Can I please..”

“But little girls like you need their mommies to do that for them.” Stepmother replied.

I really wanted to at least have the dignity of doing it for myself and continued on. “But I'm a thirteen year old boy! And I'm quite capable of bathing and diapering myself.”

Both of them laughed. And I immediately realized the relative absurdity of my statement. A thirteen year old boy/little girl pleading his case to be allowed to change his wet, poopy diapers himself. But I didn't care or find it funny.

Dad looked up from his newspaper again. “Well you know Joan, it'd save you a lot of work. Why not let him, I mean her, give it a try?”

“Well, that's true Steve. I suppose we could give her a try.” And she looked at me.

“Thanks--MOMMY!” I said.

“Okay then Stephie. If you think you can be a big girl, we'll give it a go.”

I smiled and nodded my head up and down.

“But listen up sweetie and be sure to follow my directions to the letter.” She warned.

“I promise. I will mommy.” And in a little girlish maneuver to gain favor, I stuck my index finger to the corner of my mouth and twisted slightly from side to side as she spoke.

“Go upstairs to the bathroom. There's a warm tub of bubble bath waiting for you. Carefully pull off your rhumba panties. You'll find a diaper pail with sudsy water to put them in. Very carefully remove your messy disposable diapers and put them in the plastic bag you'll find on the toilet seat. There's an ample supply of baby wipes to clean your mess BEFORE you get into the tub. Sort of a pre-cleaning. Use as many as you need to. I don't want you soaking and washing in a tub of poopy suds. Put the used baby wipes in the plastic bag. If you get any of your mess on the floor, and you probably will, there are paper towels and a spray bottle of Lysol in the sink cabinet to clean it up with. Put those in the plastic bag too and close it with the twist tie. It'll go outside to the trash. Understand so far Stephie?” She asked.

“Yes mommy. I'm a big girl! I can do it.” I said in the ultra little girlish mode I had slipped into.

Stepmother fanned her face with her hand. “I'm sorry Stephie, but you do stink!” And she continued. “But anyways. Use the wash cloth next to the tub to thoroughly, and I do mean thoroughly, wash every knook and cranny of yourself. I want you squeaky clean and sweet smelling all over. Then you can soak for awhile if you want to. Don't wash your hair or worry if you get it wet.”

That surprised me but I was glad to hear it.

“I will take care of your hair after you're bathed and diapered. Are you following all of this honey?”

“Yes mommy, I can do all of that.” I replied.

“When you're done with your bath and dried, brush your teeth and head for your room. You'll find three disposable diapers and plastic pants on your bed. Baby powder and diaper rash ointment is on your dresser. Do use the baby powder but it's up to you if you think you need the ointment. When you're ready, come back down here. We'll be waiting for you.”

Out of force of habit, I started to curtsey. They giggled as I realized I had nothing to curtsey with. I giggled too and headed for upstairs.

“Be sure to securely diaper yourself Stephie! We don't want any leaks in your bed tonight.” Father called as I walked up the stairs.

Probably almost an hour later, I found myself, towel wrapped around me, standing for the first time since camp in my bedroom. Thankfully, it appeared to be pretty much the same as I had left it, except for the diapers and plastic pants and baby powder and ointment that had been set out for me. I had feared it might have been turned into a full fledged nursery, complete with a crib. It felt very good to be back in my own room.

I didn't inspect my room any further though. I knew better than to keep stepmother and dad waiting too long for me to appear back downstairs. I powdered myself but didn't want the bother of the diaper rash ointment. Then I quickly, but carefully and securely, diapered myself with the three disposables. I tugged the clear, pink tinted plastic diaper pants up, making certain that my diapers were tucked inside the waist and leg openings. And I headed downstairs.

Dad, stepmother and Laura were sitting in the living room watching TV.

Laura burst into laughter at the sight of me in only my diapers and plastic pants and teased. “Thank goodness you don't stink so awful anymore!”

Mom inspected me head to toe and declared. “Perfect Stephie. What a big girl!!! You did a great job. And you smell so sweet.”

Laura stifled a giggle. But I didn't care. I was actually proud of myself and squealled, “Thank you mommy.”

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part5

“Now Stephie, before we get you into a pretty nitey for beddy bye, I'm gonna wash and condition your hair with a special shampoo and conditioner. We'll do it in the kitchen sink.” And she took my hand and we headed there.

I figured that it had to be something that would give my curls more bounce and body and hold. And I was sure I'd be sleeping in a head full of rollers tonight.

“Aw, mommy!” I groaned.

“Hush up honey. No complaints.” She said and she gave my bum a gentle swat. But it wasn't done in anger or done to hurt me in any way.

She vigorously washed my hair, rinsed it with the sprayer, then washed and rinsed it a second time. She towel dried it slightly and then sat me at the kitchen table. She took a tube of some kind of conditioner and thoroughly worked a large glop of it into every strand of my hair. Next, using a rattail comb, she parted my hair down the middle of my head and combed all of my hair staight down about my shoulders.

“Now just sit there for about fifteen minutes to let the conditioner do its work. Would you like something to drink while you wait? Or a magazine to read?” She asked.

I declined the drink, for fear that I'd be peeing it into my diapers over night. But I said yes to the magazine.

She went to the magazine rack under the microwave table and came back with an issue of “American Girl” magazine.

“Aw mommy, that's Laura's magazine!” I said with a frown.

“I said no complaints Stephie! It's a magazine for little girls like Laura and YOU!” And she set it on the table in front of me. “Besides, there are lots of pretty dollies with matching outfits available for their lucky owners. Maybe you'll see one that you'd like me to order for you.”

No chance of that I thought, but didn't express it. I was in stepmother's “good graces” and didn't want to spoil that.

“I'll be back in a little bit sweetheart. I want to run a load of wash. Check out the magazine.” And she headed for the basement.

I looked at the cover. It was almost a year old. And it showed no sign of wear or tear. It appeared to be totally untouched and unread. No surprise there. A Tomboy like Laura would have no interest in it. Nor did I. I just opened it to somewhere in the middle and left it there in front of me to make stepmother think I'd actually been looking through it.

Before long, she returned. I expected her to be carrying my bucket full of pink rollers, but she wasn't.

“See anything in there that catches your fancy Stephie?” She asked as she pointed to the opened magazine.

“Oh, no thank you mommy.” I declined as graciously as I could. Being in her “good graces” was becoming important to me.

“Too bad honey pie. You'd look precious in one of those outfits with a matching dolly!”

“Yes mommy, I know.” I replied, but not with much enthusiasm.

“Well, c'mon over to the sink and I'll rinse out your conditioner.”

A few minutes later, I was back at the kitchen table with stepmother towelling my hair. Then she parted it down the middle again, like before, and then blow dried and combed it straight down about my shoulders. It took a long time to dry it but when it finally was dry, she picked up a brush and brushed it for several minutes. Then she held a hand mirror in front of me. And I was very pleasantly amazed at my reflection.

My hair was shiny and well conditioned. But best of all, it was straight, just like before I went away to camp. There was absolutely no curl to it at all. My hair was probably a good three inches longer than before I went to camp and, of course, I still had my “girlie” bangs. But I was thrilled that I had no curls what-so-ever. It looked like normal for me--that is, normal for me--Stephen.

“What do you think Stephie?” Stepmother asked.

“Oh mommy! Thank you. I love it.” I replied with very genuine gratitude. But I couldn't resist asking. “It's wonderful mommy. And don't misunderstand. I'm certainly not complaining. But how did you get all the curls out and why?” And I repeated. “But I sure do love it.”

“The shampoo and conditioner is designed to relax curls and straighten hair. That did the trick.” And she picked up the hairbrush again and started brushing it some more. And her brushing actually felt very good and soothing to me. Girlish but good. I could understand why girls were always brushing each other's hair.

“As to why--well to be perfectly honest Stephie, I'd love to keep you in pretty wiener curls. You look so precious in them. So little girlie! But in a little over a week, you have to go back to school as thirteen year old Stephen. And Stephen can't have pretty, girlish wiener curls. You gotta look, as much as possible, like you did before you went to camp. Now I can't do anything about your bangs. They'll have to grow out over time. But at least, your hair will be pretty much back to normal for Stephen.”

“Wow! I hadn't thought about that.” I said. “Thanks.”

“Well, be thankful that your father and I DID think about that.”

“Yes mommy, thank you again.” And I stood up and actually hugged her.

She took my hand. “Now let's go upstairs and you can pick out a pretty nitey to wear to bed. And be thankful for no rollers to sleep in.”

“Yes mommy. I won't miss them!”

As we walked into the living room for the stairs, stepmother said to dad and Laura, who were still watching TV, “Well, what do you two think?”

“Great work Joan. But the curls sure were cute.” Dad said.

“Yeah, they sure were.” Laura said and then added. “Sissy boys should have pretty wiener curls!”

Stepmother and I climbed the stairs for my bedroom. As we walked in, she said. “There's been a few changes Stephie. Maybe you noticed them when you were getting into your diapers?”

“Not really.” I said.

“Well, I'll show you.” And she led me over to my dresser.

She opened the top drawer. It contained exactly five pairs of my B.V.D.s, five pairs of my black dress socks, and five of my undershirts. But the remaining three drawers under it held all of my girlie underthings. I gasped, though it shouldn't have been a surprise to me.

Then to the closet. She opened the louvered doors. I foolishly gasped in surprise again. The right third of it held exactly five pairs of my school dress slacks and five long sleeved dress shirts. All of my boys clothes were in “fives”. I realized it was for each day of the school week. A hook held my brown belt and my brown penny loafers were on the closet floor beneath it. My room had absolutely no other boy's clothes. All my play/casual clothes were gone.

The left two thirds of the closet held all of my dresses and petticoats and skirts and tops and sleep wear and Mary Janes and sandals. All the rest of my frilly “girlie gear” from camp.

“Pick out a nitey to wear to bed tonight Stephie. Pink would be nice to match your diaper pants.” Stepmother advised.

I let out a very audible groan.

“Oh, c'mon sweetheart.” She said. “Don't be such a party pooper!” And then she giggled over what she had just said and added. “Well actually, don't be any kind of a POOPER tonight.”

I wasn't much amused by her quip but replied, “Yes mommy.” And I took a lacey pink nitey from its hanger.

She helped me into it. “Okay, it's just after eleven. Time for you and Laura to get to bed. We have church tomorrow. Let's go downstairs and you can kiss your father good night. “

At the bottom of the stairs, stepmother called out. “Okay Laura, it's bedtime.”

Despite this quip being at my expense, I did appreciate it very much and laughed out loud. And I could see a lot of frustration in Laura's very red face from all the threats she'd been given this day by dad and stepmother. And I loved it and so hoped they wouldn't remain idle threats for long.

I kissed dad on the cheek. “Good night daddy.”

“Good night Stephie.” And he kissed me on my forehead and whispered. “You're a very good little girl. I love you.”

In bed, it took a good amount of time to fall asleep. My head was a “buzz” with all the many things that had happened today. And I was worried about going to church tomorrow. A lot of people who'd be there knew “Stephen”.

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part6

“Wake up sweetheart. Time to get up!” I heard my stepmother call from behind my closed bedroom door. A knock soon followed and the door opened about half way. My stepmother's head peeked in through the opening. “C'mon sleepyhead. Gotta get up and get ready for church.”

I looked at the clock on my nightstand. 8:03AM. “But mommy, why so early. We usually go to 12:00 mass.

Stepmother opened the door fully and walked to my bedside. “Yup, you're right. And that's when we're going. But we need plenty of time to get you ready for church.”

“But church isn't for four hours. I don't need that much time.” I complained.

“Well, today you will honey pie.” And she walked to my window and opened the blinds. I squinted at the burst of sunlight.

“C'mon downstairs and have some breakfast. And I'll explain why.”

She headed out the door, then stopped and turned back. “How are your diapers?”

I pushed against the front of my diaper pants. “Clean and dry mommy.”

“Good Stephie. What a big girl. See you in a few minutes.” And out the door she went.

I got up and headed for the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face to wipe the sleep from my eyes and rinsed my mouth with mouthwash. I smiled at the reflection in the vanity mirror. No curls!!! And I trudged down the stairs to the kitchen.

Stepmother was at the stove making French toast. Dad was sitting at the table sipping coffee and reading the Sunday paper. Laura was nowhere to be seen.

“Hi Stephanie. How's my little girl this morning?” Dad said peering up from his newspaper.

“Very tired.” I mumbled.

“Do your diapers need changing Stephie?” He asked.

“No daddy.” I again mumbled.

“That's my girl!” And he smiled and went back to his newspaper.

“Sit down Steph. Got your favorite--French toast.” And stepmother set a plate of it on the table in front of me.

I was pretty groggy but the French toast and glass of cold milk perked me up. As I finished the last piece, I asked. “Why so early mommy?”

“Well, I want to have plenty of time to do your hair.”

“Do my hair???” But it's done.” I said. “You did it last night and I love it like it is!”

“I know Stephie and you're right.” She said as she started to clear away the breakfast dishes. “Help me finish clearing the dishes and I'll explain.”

I cleared the remaining dishes as she set a plate of French toast aside for Laura. “That little Dickens probably won't be up for another couple hours.” She said, really just complaining to herself.

Dad left for the living room to catch the morning news on the TV. Mom sat down at the table with a fresh cup of coffee and I finished the last drops of my milk.

“More milk Stephie?”

“No thanks mommy.” I replied.

“Now about your hair Stephie.” And she took a sip from her cup. “I know you're very pleased with it, and you should be. It's almost perfect. Perfect for Stephen, that is. But it's not perfect for Stephanie.”

“But why not??? I don't even care that much if you want to tie ribbons in when I'm Stephanie. I'm pretty used to that sort of thing now. It's fine for Stephen and Stephanie.”

“Well, you're wrong there Stephie. Now hear me out. You're a smart girl AND a smart boy and what I'm gonna say will make sense to you I'm sure.”

I moaned but kept quiet to hear her out.

“If you're smart, you'll try to distance Stephen from Stephanie as much as you can. You don't want THEM to be perceived as ONE, or the jig is up.”

I just gave her a very perplexed look.

“Stay with me sweetheart. You'll understand.” And she took another sip of her coffee. “Your hair, mussed as it is, is Stephen's hairstyle. Almost like it was before camp. And one's hairstyle is probably what most people notice the most.”

“Yeah but...”

“Just listen Steph.” Stepmother cut me off. “You'll thank me later for this.” And she paused to think for a moment.

“Let me ask you a question Stephie, keeping in mind that someone's hairstyle is one of the most noticeable and recognizable things about them.”

She sipped again and asked. “Now, what if a very pretty little girl named Stephie suddenly appeared, almost out of the blue? A very pretty little girl in a very pretty dress with a very pretty face that looked a lot like Stephen's face. And that pretty little girl had the exact same hairstyle as Stephen. What would someone think?”

There was a very pregnant pause as I thought for several moments. But finally, it hit me.

“Bingo!” Stepmother said with a look of relief. “I knew you were a smart girl. And boy too! It's like I said earlier, you have to distance Stephanie from Stephen as much as possible. The more different Stephanie looks from Stephen, the better off both of you are. And both Stephanie's and Stephen's hairstyles are a big factor in that. So Stephanie's hairstyle should be very different from Stephen's hairstyle. And that's why I got you up early, to give Stephanie a new hairdo that's very different from Stephen's.”

“I understand mommy. I know you're right. I hadn't thought of that. But I can't have curls that will probably still show when I go to school as me--Stephen.”

“Relax sweetie.” And she took my hands in hers. “Mommy's thought of everything! When I do Stephie's hair, no curling or cutting or rollers or gel or anything else, other than a brush and comb, will be used. And undoing Stephie's hairdo will take only moments. And Stephen's hair will be back to normal. Remember honey pie, you want to distance Stephanie from Stephen. And Stephie's new hairdo will go along way in doing that.”

“Really mommy?”

“Yes--REALLY. You'll see.”

Stepmother left me at the table for her bedroom. She returned a minute later with a brush, rattail comb and the hand mirror. “Let's get to work on your hair now Stephie. You're gonna love it.”

I doubted that, but did now clearly see the wisdom in a new hairdo for Stephie. She started by giving my hair a long and thorough brushing. Though it was such a girlish thing, it felt absolutely wonderful. When the brushing was done, she picked up the rattail comb and spent several minutes combing through my long hair. And that felt great too. Then using the comb, she carefully parted my hair straight down the middle from the top of my head to the nape of my neck. My bangs remained in place.

“Hold the mirror up and pay attention and watch what I'm doing.” She said as she worked. “Because down the road, I'll expect you to do your hair yourself.”

Satisfied with a nice straight part all the way down the back of my neck, she took one half of my hair in one hand and the other half in the other hand. Like two ponytails.

“Now Stephie, hold the left half of your hair in your left hand while I work on the right.”

She worked the start of my right ponytail up to just behind the top of my ear and secured it with some kind of fastener or band. Then she did the same to the left side.

With both pigtails secured, she briefly brushed them and then switched to the rattail comb.

“This next part is tricky sweetie. But all little girls learn how to do it. So pay attention.!”

She used the comb to separate one pigtail into three equal smaller ones. And she started doing some sort of “weaving” thing with them.

I wasn't stupid and soon realized what she was doing and complained. “Not braids mommy!!!” And I started to cry.

“Hush up Stephie.” She scolded. “They're for your own good. Remember, Stephie's hair has to be very different from Stephen's. And braids will take care of that nicely.”

“But they're so girlie!” I cried.

“Well--dah!!! No kidding Stephie!” Stepmother was getting frustrated and sarcastic. “And I suppose Stephie's not SO GIRLIE!!!”

She was angry and I dropped it and just sobbed. She finished the first braid and secured it with a rubber band about two inches above its endpoint. Then she removed the temporary band at the top of the braid creating a long, straight braid of hair from the top back of my ear to a couple of inches below my shoulder. Then she did the same to the other side.

And she paused and went to the stove and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee. “Listen sweetheart. I'm sorry for being sarcastic with you. But braids are your best bet.” And she wiped my tears with a tissue.

I played the “petulant little girl” card and stuck out my lower lip and just pouted.

“I know your braids are very girlie. But then, no more so than your wiener curls!” And she smiled. “Remember, girlie braids for Stephie is vastly different from Stephen's hair. Now stop the sobbing and think about it. I gotta get something from your room to finish up Stephie's new hairdo.” And she headed upstairs.

I did think about it while she was gone. And I knew she was right. But when I looked at my braids in the mirror, I hated what I saw. They were no more or no less girlie than my wiener curls. I guess I was just hoping for something simpler. I bucked up and stopped my crying. I figured the braids would grow on me, literally and figuratively, so to speak. I even managed a little smile when stepmother returned from my bedroom.

But the smile quickly turned to a frown again when she set two white barrettes and two lengths of white ribbon on the table.

I groaned. “Aw mommy! Do I have to wear barrettes and ribbons???”

“No Stephie. You don't have to.” And she paused for a moment and added. “God knows Stephen sure wouldn't!”

That answered that in a nutshell. And I argued no more. And she clipped a barrette at the top front of each side of my head. And she tied a large white bow at the end of each braid. And I stared in horror at my reflection in the mirror. Almost in a daze.

But the daze was quickly broken by an uproar of laughter and the sound of Laura's voice.

“Oh my God!” She cried. “Sissy braids for the sissy boy! They're even better than his wiener curls!!!”

“But his braids are so sissy!” She said with a giggle. “And those ribbons!!!” And she grabbed one of my braids and twirled it around.

“Leave his hair alone. Enough with the braids. I'm warning you!” Hollered stepmother. “Now get your breakfast. There's a plate of French toast on the counter for you. Microwave it for a minute and sit down and eat.”

Laura popped it into the microwave. A minute later, with plate in hand, she sat down in the chair next to mine. She set it on the table and then stuck her nose in the air and started sniffing. “Well thank goodness! At least the sissy boy's diapers aren't poopy.”

Stepmother went ballistic. “That's it young lady. You've done it now!” And she got up and grabbed Laura's plate and practically threw it into the sink.

“But mom, I wasn't finished!” Laura yelled.

“That's right Laura. You're not finished because I'm just getting started with you.” And stepmother picked up the hairbrush.

“What on earth is going on in here?” Dad shouted as he walked into the kitchen.

But before dad could reply, stepmother laughed and said, “Oh silly Laura. I'm not gonna spank you. Though God knows you deserve it. But this hairbrush,” and she waved it in front of Laura's face, “is gonna be the instrument of a very fitting punishment for you.”

And she walked behind Laura and started brushing her hair. At that point, I was as confused as Laura and dad appeared to be. And all three of us said nothing.

“You know Laura,” she calmly said, “despite being a Tomboy, you do have such lovely long hair. Most girls would give anything to have hair like yours.”

Stepmother was right, though Laura never fussed or tended to it. She was definitely not a “girlie” girl. Her long, straight light brown hair reached almost to the middle of her back. And, like always, it was snarled and tangled and unkempt.

“Now Laura.” Stepmother continued. “Since you seem to have such a fascination with your stepbrother's new hairdo, I'm gonna give you braids and ribbons just like his!”

“No way I'm gonna have braids like sissy boy!!!” And she started to bolt from her chair, only to be pushed back down by stepmother.

“Oh, you're quite mistaken young lady. You're gonna have pretty girlie braids and ribbons to show off in church and for the rest of the day.”

“Dad!!!” She pleaded in desperation.

“You'll do as your mother says Laura.” He sternly replied.

“Now Laura, you better sit still.” Stepmother warned. “If you fight me in any way, you'll find yourself in diapers and plastic pants too. I'm sure your stepbrother would be more than glad to let you wear a couple of his thickest cloth diapers under a frilly pair of his rhumba panties.”

“Oh Laura, you'd not only wear them. You'd use them too!” She replied. “Now are you gonna sit still and let me do your hair?”

“Yes mother.” And she started to whimper and sob.

Though I hated being the example for her punishment, I was glad to see some “justice in the jungle”.

“Stephie, you're gonna help me braid your stepsister's hair.”

“Aw mommy, do I have to?” I pleaded.

“Yes you do.” She crossly said. “You learn by doing.”

Well, I wasn't too keen about getting so up close and personal with Laura and her hair. And I knew Laura must have felt the same. But stepmother and I got the job done.

Half an hour later, a very forlorn and contrite Laura stood up from her seat with long pretty braids tied with white ribbons. She even had white barrettes like mine. Her braids, which were probably four or five inches longer than mine, hung down in front under her very red and tear stained face.

Laura held her braids in her hands and whined. “Oh mom, please! These are awful.”

“I think they look very sweet Laura.”

“But mom. They're so long. They'll get in the way when I play or eat or do anything. I could get them caught in a fan or the garbage disposal or catch fire to them if I lean over a hot stove burner. They're dangerous!!!”

It was sure a stretch. And my stepmother really had a good laugh over Laura's ridiculous excuses for not having her hair in braids.

“Well Laura.” And she chuckled with a devilish grin. “You do have a point.” And she struggled to try to contain her laughter. “Sit back down honey.”

Laura quickly sat back down, eager to be relieved of her braids and ribbons.

But I knew stepmother had something else in mind. But what? I hadn't a clue.

Stepmother untied the white ribbons from her braids and set them on the table in front of Laura. Then she walked over to a kitchen drawer. And Laura seized the opportunity to gloat and looked at me and stuck out her tongue.

A minute later, stepmother returned with two lengths of heavy duty string in her hand. Laura started to get a look of panic on her face, as she sensed something was up.

“I certainly don't want you to be in any DANGER Laura!” And she grinned. “So I have the perfect solution to your DANGEROUS dangling braids problem.”

She took the end of one braid and brought it up and under the beginning of it at the scalp and tied it securely in place with one of the strings. Then she tied one of the white ribbons over it in a large, perky bow. And she did the same to the other braid. She picked up the hand mirror and held it in front of Laura's face.

But Laura certainly wasn't laughing. She pounded her fists on the table and stomped her feet on the floor and buried her face in her arms on the table and bawled like a baby.

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part8

Stepmother looked at her watch. “It's almost eleven. Okay girls, upstairs. Get dressed for church.” She took Laura's hand and had to practically yank the miserable creature from her chair. “Let's go Laura. I'll help you get dressed. Stephie, you're on your own.”

She almost had to drag Laura up the stairs. I followed behind. Stepmother called back. “The yellow gingham dress with the sewn in petticoats would be perfect for church.” As she pulled Laura into her room, she added. “Don't forget the extra petticoat Steph. I want your dress nice and poufie. Get all gussied up. You know the routine. I'm gonna have my hands full with this little Tomboy!”

Even with both our bedroom doors closed, I could easily hear all the commotion going on in Laura's room as I got dressed. Lots of arguing and complaining and crying from Laura. And several threats from stepmother about diapers and plastic pants.

I did make it a point to “get all gussied up” like mother had said. Earrings and necklace from stepmother. Light makeup and pink lipstick that matched my nail polish, which I had reapplied. Even a spritz of perfume. The whole “girlie” nine yards. And I fussed for two reasons. I wanted to distance myself from Stephen and I wanted to keep on the good side of stepmother, which I enjoyed, especially with Laura on her bad side.

With a final adjustment of my dress and petticoats and braid ribbons in the full length mirror, I took a moment to reflect on my reflection. And the reflection was awful---but perfect!

I stepped into the hallway for downstairs. Laura's door was still closed. They weren't done. I heard stepmother yell. “Well maybe you'd prefer to wear your stepbrother's pink satin party dress and petticoats missy!”

I was the threatening example again. But at least it probably wasn't an idle threat. And I “bounced and bobbed” my way down the stairs.

Dad was seated in his armchair in the living room putting money into the church offering envelope. He looked up. “Wow! Absolutely stunning Stephie!” He gushed.

I decided to just stand and wait for stepmother and Laura. I'd learned from experience that standing was often easier than trying to sit in my mountain of “pouf”.

I soon heard the sound of steps descending the stairs. Both my mouth and dad's opened wide with awe at the sight of Laura. “Wow!” Was all he said. And I was just lost for words.

Except for the red, teared stained and embarrassed face, Laura looked like a whole different little girl. She was wearing a knee length, blue and green plaid, pleated skirt with a crisp, white short sleeved blouse that sported a Peter Pan collar. Her white knee socks ended in her black T-bars. A small matching black purse hung from her shoulder. And I could see just the hint of the hem of a white straight half slip peeking from under her skirt. With her braid loops and white ribbons, one could have easily thought that she'd just gotten off the bus from some Catholic girls school.

I was amazed. I couldn't remember ever seeing her in a dress or skirt. Just last year, she had vehemently refused to be the Flower Girl in her cousin's wedding because she wouldn't wear the frilly dress that was required. And I was surprised at how pretty she actually was. I'd never noticed it under her Tomboy persona.

But of course, Laura blew the whole image for everyone when she shouted, “this sucks!!!”

Driving to church in the van, stepmother turned around and said. “I want to remind you girls of something that's very, very important!”

She looked at Laura. “Remember Laura! When we're out in public, Stephie's your cousin, I repeat COUSIN! And her name's Stephanie, not Stephen or sissy boy. And you refer to her as “her” or “she”. Nothing in male terms.”

“What's the Post Office got to do with it?” Laura asked, and she wasn't kidding.

Stepmother, who was quite serious about all of this, still couldn't contain a slight giggle. “Male Laura. M-A-L-E. As in boys or men.”

“Oh, I understand.”

“Well you better or I promise you'll mightily regret it.” She warned.

“As to you Stephie, remember that in public, you're our NIECE. You're the daughter of your father's sister and you're staying with us indefinitely while your parents are away on business. Call us Auntie Joan and Uncle Steve. Though if you slip up and call us mommy or daddy, it's not the end of the world. Little children often accidently call other adults mommy or daddy. Just giggle and correct yourself.”

“It sounds like we're some family in a witness protection program mommy.” And I too wasn't kidding.

“Oh, don't exaggerate Stephie.” She scolded. “And finally Stephie. Remember, if anyone comments, and don't be surpised if they do, about your resemblance to Stephen; you explain explain that you're cousins and that you hear that all the time. You might even admit that you do look similar. Say it with a smile and a girlish giggle and that will help diffuse the situation.”

In the church parking lot, I gulped as we got out of the van. Though it embarrassed me to show my fear, I took my stepmother's hand and said softly. “I'm scared mommy.”

And I knew I had good reason to be scared. At camp, of course, it was no secret that my fellow campers and I were boys. When I was taken to the nearby town, it was no secret that I was a boy. And the same was true, many times, at the Mall. And that was awful and I hated it and it was very humiliating and embarrassing. But being recognized as a boy in the Mall or in the town was different than being recognized as a boy here at home. I'd probably never see those people again. And they didn't know me.

But at home, if the secret got out that I was not only a boy; but I was Stephen Crandall---well, that would be devastating and humiliating to the max. And I'd certainly never, ever live it down.

As we started through the parking lot for the church, dad took hold of my other hand. The three of us walked together. Laura, behind us, brought up the rear. And she literally brought up the rear. My REAR, that is! I felt her tugging and fiddling with the back of my dress and petticoats. I looked over my shoulder and cried, “Laura!” And dad and stepmother immediately looked back.

But before they could speak, Laura said. “Your petticoats are showing. I'm just trying to fix it!”

Stepmother accepted Laura's explanation and said, “well that's very considerate of you Laura.” And we continued on.

But moments later, I felt a breeze blowing against my back upper legs and heard the sound of laughter from behind me. I looked back over my shoulder again and saw the hem of my petticoats just beneath it and a nearby family trying to stifle their laughter.

“Mommy!!!” I cried, as I realized that my diapers and rhumba panties were being fully displayed to the world.

“Laura, stop that this minute!” Stepmother yelled.

Dad let go of my hand and stepped back and took Laura's to keep control of her.

“But dad, Stephie's petticoats were showing. I was just trying to fix it!”

“Yeah right Laura!” He said sarcastically.

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part9

The church was packed. It had a large congregation and 12:00 Mass was very popular. Dad and Laura walked ahead of me and stepmother down the long center aisle. Dad probably did that on purpose to avoid any temptation on Laura's part as to my dress and petticoats, which mercilously bounced and bobbed with every step I took.

I kept my face fixed straight ahead but I could feel many eyes on me. Eyes that I prayed (and I surely was in the right place for that) didn't recognize me. I felt very conspicuous. Laura must have felt the same way too, but probably not as much as me. But with Laura's new look, at least I wasn't the only pretty little eight year old girl. I envied her, her simple skirt and blouse, which were sheer hell to her. But her outlandish braid loops and huge ribbons were even more sissy than my hairdo. I couldn't see, but I was sure she had a big scowl on her face and probably some tears too.

We found a place not far from the front. We genuflected and entered the pew and sat down. Dad on one end, stepmother on the other end, and Laura and me next to each other in between. And naturally, my dress and petties “poufed” all around me. And I envied Laura her simple pleated skirt even more.

I had always hated all the kneeling Catholics did in church. But I soon discovered an appreciation for it. Kneeling, like standing, was a lot easier for me than sitting.

I did my best to keep my eyes glued straight ahead throughout Mass. Laura tried to fiddle with my dress and petticoats a few times, but a swat on her hand from me and dad kept her at bay.

Kneeling at the alter in my short dress and petticoats made me feel like a sweet, innocent little girl making her First Holy Communion. And I hoped my diapers and rhumba panties weren't showing.

Mass finally ended and we made our way back down the aisle. Both Laura and I got lots of adoring, gushing smiles from women and young ladies. Neither of us appreciated them. Laura just frowned but I demurely smiled, wanting to keep up appearances.

We did get some giggles from young girls like us. But it had to be laughter due to how childishly we both appeared.

Boys paid no attention to us, as I would have. And I was glad for that.

The first real “test” came in the back of the church outside of the sanctuary.

“Joan. Oh Joan!”

“Hi Nancy, how are you?” Stepmother said as they shook hands.

“I'm fine thanks. And you?”

Nancy, Mrs. Corrigan to me, was the mother of a boy named Billy who was in my confirmation class last school year and would be again this school year. And Billy was standing next to her.

I gulped and squeezed my stepmother's hand tighter and glanced down at the floor.

“This is Stephanie. She's Steve's niece. She's staying with us indefinitely while her parents are out of the country on business. She's a little shy.” And stepmother slipped her hand from mine and rested it on my shoulder. “Say hello to Mrs. Corrigan Stephie.”

I hesitantly looked up and smiled and curtseyed. “Hello Mrs. Corrigan.”

She giggled. “Such a well mannered, pretty little girl. You don't see that much these days!” And she gave the still glaring Laura a look.

And I could have kicked myself. I hadn't needed to curtsey. But I couldn't seem to get over the habit of it.

“Well it's so nice to meet you Stephanie! You're very lovely and so is your outfit. And I certainly can see the Crandall family resemblance.” And she smiled. “I can see some of your cousin Stephen in you.”

I gulped, ready to explain as stepmother had instructed me to. And out of fear, just a little pee trickled into my diapers.

But before I could speak, I heard music to my ears. And of all places, it came from Billy, who had been silent and totally disinterested in everything to this point. “Hey yeah, speaking of Stephen! Where is he? Didn't he go away for the summer to some camp or to visit some relatives or something?”

Stepmother took charge. “Yes he did Billy. But he won't be back until next weekend.” And she wrapped her arm around my waist and squeezed me slightly. I had passed the “test”.

As we buckled up in the van, stepmother turned around and smiled at me. “See sweetie, I told you you'd be fine. You were perfect.”

“Thanks mommy, you were right.” And I returned her smile. “I hope it's like that all the time.”

“It will be Stephie. Trust me.”

As we entered the house, Laura raced upstairs for her bedroom.

“Hold up there Laura! Just where are you running off to in such a hurry?” Stepmother called after her.

“To my room to get out of these sissy clothes and this sissy hairdo!” She yelled back.

“Oh no you don't young lady. You stop right there. You're gonna stay as you are until bedtime.” Mom said as she caught up with her.

“No way I'm gonna spend the day as a sissy like Stephen!” And as she started her mad dash again, stepmother grabbed her arm, holding her in place.

“You're NOT spending the day like Stephen, I mean Stephie. She's in diapers.” And she caught her breath. “But if you argue with me, you WILL be spending the day like Stephie---IN DIAPERS!!!”

She stompted her feet. “No! I'm gettin' out of these sissy clothes and sissy braid loops!”And she broke stepmother's grip and bolted up the stairs.

“Steve,” she yelled, “help me.” And they followed her upstairs.

I just sat on the couch to listen. I heard Laura slam her door shut. Then I heard it open and slam shut again. And for the next twenty minutes, I heard tons of sreaming and shouting and crying. And it was all coming from Laura.

Finally, I heard descending steps on the stairs. Father, stepmother, then Laura appeared in the living room. Laura looked just like she had before she went upstairs, except for her very red, tear stained face and the huge bulge under her pleated skirt.

“Now then Laura. Turn your back to Stephie and lift up your skirt.” Stepmother ordered.

“No!!!” She cried.

“Do it, unless you'd like an extra day like this!”

Laura was fit to be tied and embarrassed to the extreme and begged. “Please don't make me mom!!!”

“Do it Laura. NOW!” Stepmother yelled.

Begrudgingly, she slowly turned around and lifted her skirt up.

Her very thick diapers were covered with one of the frilliest pairs of diaper rhumba panties that I had.

I laughed and mumbled to myself. “Justice in the jungle.”

“Good Laura.” Stepmother said. “Now you're free to go about your day as you wish. But don't you dare remove anything you're wearing or do anything to your hair.” And she giggled and sarcastically added. “Stephie and I are going to Walgreen's. Gotta get a few things. Want to come?”

“No way I'm goin' outside like this.” She shouted.

“So be it Laura.”

Going to Walgreen's was unwelcomed news to me. “Aw mom!” I moaned.

She sat on the couch next to me and fondled a braid. “Trust me sweetie. You'll be fine.” Then she stood back up and took my hand. “C'mon Steph, let's go.”

I winced in fear as we headed out the front door. And instead of getting in the van, we walked past it for the sidewalk.

“It's a beautiful afternoon Stephie. Let's walk to Walgreen's.”

“But mommy!” I said.

“You'll be fine Stephie. I promise.”

Stepmother often, for exercise, walked to Walgreen's for small errands. We lived on a quiet side street four blocks from Main Street. And Walgreen's wasn't far.

We held hands as we walked, until a gust of wind blew the back of my dress and petties up. I pulled my hand from hers and walked with both of my hands against the back of my dress.

Half a block into our walk, I saw ahead our neighbor, Mrs. Bates, hosing grass clippings off her driveway. Her daughter, Constance, was Laura's age and Laura often play with Constance and her six year old little brother, Edward. As we approached, Mrs. Bates let go of the spray nozzle and headed to greet us.

“Hello Mrs. Crandall. How are you my dear?”

“I'm well and you Mrs. Bates?” Stepmother politely asked.

Now the Bates family was fairly new to the neighborhood. And the country, for that matter. They had moved here, maybe six months ago, from England. And Mrs. Bates was very formal and a bit stuffy and very British.

“I'm quite well too Mrs. Crandall.” And she looked at me. “And who is this lovely, well dressed young lady?”

Why, I'm not sure, but I decided to take the lead and I curtseyed. Purposely. Why not, I thought. Mrs. Bates was British and quite formal.

“My name is Stephanie and I'm eight years old. I'm staying with Auntie Joan and Uncle Steve for a while. Uncle Steve is my mother's brother.” I said with exaggerated politeness.

“Well, I certainly can see the family resemblance to your father and your cousin Stephen.” And she paused for a moment. “And speaking of your cousin Stephen. I've not seen him all summer.”

“He's been away for the summer.” I replied. “He'll be back next weekend.”

“Well, you're certainly a charming and well mannered young lady Stephanie. I do hope you'll come down and play with my daughter Constance. She's also eight. You two will get along smashingly!”

“Thank you Mrs. Bates.” And I curtseyed again, as I was actually having a little fun with my “charming and well mannered young lady” charade.

“Well, Mrs. Bates, we must be on our way. Have a good day.” Stepmother said and we took a step or two, and then stepmother turned back. “Oh, I forgot to ask. My daughter Laura said your son Edward had a bout with the flu. How's he doing?”

“How thoughtful of you to ask Mrs. Crandall.” She said. “I'm pleased to say that Master Bates is feeling much better!”

Stepmother quickly put her hand to her mouth and giggled and almost choked. “Well, I'm glad that Master Bates,” and she giggled again with her hand covering her mouth, “I mean Edward, is doing well.”

And we turned back and headed on our way again. And I couldn't believe the hilarious look stepmother had on her face. We walked past the next house with stepmother fighting to contain herself. But she finally let go and just burst out laughing.

“What's so funny mommy?” I asked.

“Nothing sweetie.” Choke, choke. “Nothing Steph!”

For half a block, like Mrs. Bates, I was clueless. But then it hit me and I started laughing.

“Did she say what I think she just said?”

“Yes dear. She did!” Stepmother said with another laugh.

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part11

At Main Street, we turned right for Walgreens which was just down the block. Inside, stepmother and I walked up and down a few aisles until she found what she was apparently looking for.

We stopped in front of a large rack of non-prescription eyeglasses. “Oh dear God.” I thought to myself. “She's not going to make me wear a pair of girlie glasses now?” And I didn't even need glasses.

I was relieved when she focused her attention on the mens glasses and started to browse through them. And I figured they must be for dad. He had several pairs of non-prescription eyeglasses that he used as reading glasses.

Before long, she seemed to settle on a pair of simple, black plastic, fully rimmed frames. She held them up in front of her to look through the clear lens.

“These look good.” She said, really just to herself. Then she looked at me and giggled. “Here Steph, let's see how you look in them.”

And before I could protest, she put them on me and laughed. “Take a look at yourself.” And she pointed to a small mirror on the rack. “They sure look silly on a pretty little girl like you Stephie. Don't they?”

I laughed at my reflection. I did look pretty silly. And I realized she was just playing with me and I turned to look at her and crossed my eyes and made a funny face. And she giggled.

She took them off me and said. “These will be perfect for him.” And as she looked them over one last time, it crossed my mind how weak the lens had seemed to be. They really had no effect on my vision. But then, they were meant for dad.

Satisfied with her choice, stepmother took my hand. “Well c'mon sweetie. Let's pay for them and head for home.”

As we walked for the front of the store, I heard a voice call from behind. “Oh Mrs. Crandall! Is that you?”

We both turned and looked. Just like stepmother, I immediately recognized who it was. And I quickly hung my head in fear and stared at the floor.

“Hi Dr. Lytle.” Stepmother answered, as the principal of my school approached us.

Sensing my fear, stepmother whispered to me. “Let me handle this one.” And I was glad for that. This certainly was not the place for the over the top, well mannered pretty little girl routine I'd just performed for Mrs. Bates.

Now stepmother was an active parent in my school and started off by engaging him in PTA matters. And I just kept my eyes glued to the floor and said nothing. I was so scared, I started wetting myself. And not just a little trickle, like in church. But my diapers and rhumba panties seemed to be containing the flood.

Dr. Lytle, thankfully, didn't oogle and gush over me at all, like women did. He really didn't pay that much attention to me. But he was a polite man. And when the PTA ended, he asked. “Is this your daughter Mrs. Crandall?”

Stepmother gave him the explanation. And I looked up as little as possible and never directly into his face. I offered only simple, one word answers of “hello” and “yes” and “no”.

When the explanation ended, he said. “You know, I can see the family resemblance a bit.” And he shook stepmother's hand. “Well, I'll let you two go. I'll see you at PTA Mrs. Crandall. And say hi to Stephen for me. Tell him I'll see him in school next week.”

I was still looking down when I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Nice to meet you Stephanie!”

“Thank you.” Was all I replied.

Then in a hushed voice, which I could hear though, he said to stepmother. “I think she's had a little accident.” And he was gone.

I gasped. I hadn't realized that pee was dripping down my legs and just about to reach the lacey top of my anklets.

“Well, c'mon. Chop! Chop! Gotta get you home and cleaned up and changed sweetie.” And she paid for the glasses and left.

As we walked, I started to sob.

“Oh Stephie. No tears. What's another wet diaper to you?” She said. “Besides, cheer up, you've passed three tests today with fying colors. Now will you believe me when I say you'll be fine?”

“Yes mommy.” And I was quite pleased with that.

We got all the way home with, fortunately, no interruptions and no new “tests”.

I carefully walked through the living room, to avoid dripping on the carpet. Laura was sitting on the couch watching cartoons on TV.

“Ha ha! Ha ha! Sissy boy wet his diapers!” She taunted when she saw the pee running down my legs.

“Shut up Laura!” Stepmother scolded. “I'm sure Stephie won't be the only one who wets her diapers today!”

And she did shut up.

I headed upstairs to get cleaned up and into fresh diapers. About half an hour later, as I tugged new rhumba diaper panties around my dipaers, I heard stepmother call from downstairs. “Hurry up Stephie. Dinner's almost on the table.”

“I'm almost done mommy.” I shouted.

“And knock on Laura's door and tell her to get down here for dinner.” She added.

“I will. “ I yelled and stepped out my door.

Laura must have tired of her stupid cartoons I figured, as I gave a knock on her door. “Supper time Laura.” And I headed down for the kitchen.

I sipped my milk as stepmother set dinner on the table. Before long, Laura walked into the kitchen and headed for her chair next to mine. And she was extremely upset and crying very hard. When she sat down, I almost gagged. I covered my nose and mouth with my hand. “Pew!!!” I cried.

Dad fanned his face and stepmother opened the outside kitchen door for fresh air.

And now it was my turn. “Ha ha! Ha ha! Sissy girl wet AND POOPED her diapers!”

I started to eat but was losing my appetite quickly. The smell was awful. “Mommy, she stinks to high heavens! Can't she eat in her bedroom?” I complained.

“No Stephie.” She said crossly. “Now you know how we feel when you have stinky, poopy diapers!”

Laura perked up a little with the scolding I was given and said. “”Yeah Stephie! And besides, I don't think I smell that bad!”

All three of us laughed at her and stepmother said. “Well that's because you're smelling yourself. It's you smelling YOU!”

“Yeah???” Laura said with a look of confusion on her face.

Stepmother gave it another shot. “Did you ever hear the expression---It's all in the eye of the beholder?”

“Yeah.”

“Well in your case Laura, it's all in the NOSE of the be--ah--be--um---the be-smeller!”

Dad and I roared at stepmother's little quip, as Laura thought for a moment.

“But bees don't smell, mom!” She replied.

“Never mind Laura. Forget it.” Stepmother said with a chuckle.

“What a twit!” I laughed, looking at Laura.

“Shut up sissy boy!” Laura yelled. “Besides, this is all your fault and I'm gonna get you back!”

“Both of you shut up and eat your dinner and don't let me hear another word from either of you!” Dad hollered.

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part12

The remaining week before the start of school went by too quickly and not quick enough. I viewed going back with equal amounts of anticipation and trepidation.

I was looking forward to going back because then I'd get to be a boy again, at least for the time I'd be in school. And I'd get to act and behave carry on and dress as a boy, instead of some prissy, pretty little girl. And I wouldn't have to wear and use diapers! I'd get to use a toilet, at least while in school anyways.

But I feared going back too! I wondered how I'd be perceived. My hair was pretty much back to normal, except for the bangs and being a few inches longer. And it certainly wouldn't be in braids and ribbons. I worried about how noticeable my pierced ear lobes would be. But I worried most about the girl, Sally Jo Reynolds, who was the cousin of one of the Hummingbird girls at Sunnyvale. Would she be aware of how I spent my summer at camp? And most frightening, would she indeed have the horrifying video of me that Lisa and the Hummingbird girls had made?

But as the week progressed, I tried to focus on the positive--being a boy again and using a toilet again. I stayed close to home as best I could. But there certainly were times when stepmother took me and Laura here and there, for one reason or another. And that meant “tests” I'd have to pass. But I did pass.

By midweek, the weather turned from warm but pleasant to quite hot and humid. Temps in the high eighties and low nineties.

Because of the awful heat and humidity, stepmother allowed me to just wear light, simple sundresses without petticoats much of the time. And a single cloth diaper without plastic lined diaper pants, to avoid chafing. That made things a lot cooler for me but there was a downside. Without petticoats, my diaper bulge was obvious and even the slightest little breeze blew my dress up like a kite, exposing my diapers. I spent a lot of time girlishly flouncing and swishing my dress to mask the diaper bulge. And I held on to it for dear life if there was even the tiniest breeze.

By Saturday morning though, the oppressive heat and humidity subsided. And stepmother got a phone call from Mrs. Bates inviting me and Laura and stepmother over for lunch. Mrs. Bates was eager for Constance and I to meet. I wasn't eager though.

“Certainly Mrs. Bates. We'd love to. But I'm afraid it'll just be me and Stephanie. Laura has a soccer game this afternoon, but my husband can take her to it.” I heard her say into the phone.

We got to the Bates' house a little after noon. Mrs. Bates introduced me to Constance and Master Bates. Well, Mrs. Bates did actually refer to him as “Edward” this time. But I couldn't help giggling a bit when I met him.

As we ate lunch, I again did my “charming and well mannered young lady” routine. Constance did too, though her's was real. And Constance was actually more prissy than I was.

After lunch, Constance whisked me upstairs to her bedroom. She was very eager to show me her extensive American Girls doll collection and matching outfits. I pretended interest, wanting to keep up appearances. As we sat on the floor playing with them, Mrs. Bates and stepmother appeared in the doorway and smiled at the two pretty little girls playing dolls.

Constance looked up and asked. “Can Stephanie and I pick out a doll and dress up in the matching outfits? Please!”

I groaned, and before I could protest, Mrs. Bates replied. “Of course Constance. That's a lovely idea. Stephanie's a little bigger than you but I think she can get into one.”

For me, Constance insisted that I pick the Schoolgirl doll, circa 1950's. “She's perfect for you Stephanie. She has long, dark braids like you.”

I really didn't care. No one doll was any less horrible than the others.

“We'll leave you two to change. Then come on down so we can see.” Mrs. Bates said as she closed the bedroom door.

We started to change into our outfits and I turned my back to Constance. I knew it would be wrong for me to see her undress and dress. And I had no interest in seeing that. But Constance, of course, didn't care. To her, we were both eight year old little girls.

As I pulled my gingham dress off over my head, I heard a laugh and then felt Constance's hand patting the seat of my rhumba panties. I realized that the back of my petticoats must have been pulled up with my dress.

“Diapers Stephanie?” She giggled.

I turned to look her with a frown on my red face and a few tears trickling from my eyes.

“I sometimes have accidents.” I pouted.

“It's okay Stephanie.” She comforted. “I sometimes do too, at night. So my mommy puts diapers on me at bedtime.”

She really was a sweet little girl I thought. And regarding diapers, we were kindred spirits.

Before long, two sweet little girls walked downstairs, each carrying the dolly that they matched almost perfectly with. One Praire Girl, complete with a bonnet and one Schoolgirl, complete with a wide brimmed white hat atop her dangling braids.

Naturally, Mrs. Bates and stepmother just oogled and gushed all over us.

“Let's take these precious American Girls to Dairy Queen as a treat!” Mrs. Bates said looking at stepmother. “We can walk, can't we? It's not that far, is it?”

With Master Bates, well--”Edward” along, we all headed for Dairy Queen. Constance took my free hand in her's as we walked along clutching our dolls. I felt soooo silly!

During our walk, and at Dairy Queen, we got lots of looks and attention. But all, very well meaning. Well meaning, that is until to my horror, I saw dad pull up to Dairy Queen in the van with Laura and a gaggle of girls from her soccer team. The game must have ended and it was time for a frosty treat for them.

Laura and her Tomboy teammates had a field day with me and Constance. Well, mostly just me really. I was the brunt of a lot of teasing and laughter, led by Laura of course.

“Well, Fairy Queen's come to Dairy Queen!!!” She called and her mates roared with laughter. And before dad and stepmother could rein her in, she had lifted up the back of my schoolgirl skirt and petticoats to give her friends a good look at my diapers and rhumba panties.

“Do you want to be punished like last Sunday Laura?” Stepmother warned. And that put a quick end to it.

The long Labor Day weekend passed, thankfully, with no more embarrassing incidents or silly situations for me. We didn't go to church on Sunday and I was glad for that. Monday, Labor Day, we had a simple family cookout in the backyard. Tuesday was the actual start of school, but only for teachers and staff. They had meetings to go to. And it rained most of Tuesday and I just hung around the house pondering going back to school the next day.

Tuesday night, as I headed for bed in my nitey and diapers, stepmother said to me. “I'm gonna get you up a little early, sweetie, to get Stephen ready for school.”

It was a restless night for me. I couldn't wait to be a boy again and out of diapers too. Well, at least during school hours. But I also had a lot of fears about going back to school too!

Wednesday morning--6:20AM, I woke up on my own before the buzz of my alarm clock or the wakeup knock on the door from stepmother. I just laid there in my soggy diapers thinking about the day ahead of me. I tried to focus on only the things I looked forward to and not the things I feared.

The bathroom was free so I seized the opportunity to shower and brush my teeth. Done, I wrapped the towel around me and headed back to my room. Stepmother was in the hallway knocking on Laura's door and she smiled at me. “Wow, you're an eager beaver Stephie, I mean Stephen!”

It was good to be called “Stephen”, if only for the next eight or so hours. And I was an “eager beaver” about getting dressed. It would be my first time in boys' clothes since the day I left for camp in the beginning of summer.

It felt so wonderful to put on B.V.D.'s and an undershirt, instead of diapers and rhumba panties and a bra. No lacy anklets or Mary Janes. Instead, black crew socks and my loafers. Even my dress shirt was a thrill. But the best was putting on my slacks. It felt so good to wear pants again.

I stood in front of the mirror and combed through my hair, leaving it just falling loosely about my shoulders like I'd always done. I parted my bangs and combed them back to the sides, as best I could, to make them look less apparent. I looked pretty good, pretty normal I thought.

A knock on the door and stepmother called. “Can I come in Stephen?”

“Yup.” I replied. “I'm all set.”

She entered. “You look just fine Stephen. Like normal.”

Then she walked over to my dresser and picked up a small bottle of CoverGirl liquid makeup foundation and stood in front of me. “One final touch Stephen.” She said and she unscrewed the cap.

“What??? No!” I argued.

“Relax Stephen. Trust me!” And she dabbed her finger in the makeup and applied a small amount on each of my earlobes. “This will help cover the holes in your pierced ears. And with your hair over your ears, no one will notice.”

“Thank you. Good idea.” I said.

At the breakfast table, dad looked up from his morning paper. “Hey! I have to admit, it's great to see Stephen again.”

If only he knew how great it was to BE Stephen again, I thought. But then again, he had to know how it felt.

I finished my breakfast just as Laura stepped into the kitchen, still in her pajamas and rubbing her eyes.

I got up from the table and picked up my school binder. “Well I guess I better get going.”

“Have a good first day back at school Stephen.” Stepmother said as I walked for the door. Dad wished me the same.

“Don't forget and wet or poop your underwear Stephen!” Laura taunted.

“Shut up Laura!” Dad hollered at her.

As I turned the doorknob, stepmother called. “Hold up Stephen. I almost forgot. One more thing.”

“But I gotta get going!” I cried.

“Won't take but a minute Stephen.” She said as she raced into the living room.

She returned in a moment holding a pair of back rimmed eyeglasses. They were the glasses we'd bought last week at Walgreens. And before I could stop her, she put them on me and smiled. “Okay, all set now Stephen.”

“True Stephen, you don't need them for your vision.” She said. “But you do need them to distance Stephen from Stephie. Stephen wears glasses. Stephanie doesn't. And you'll notice that there's no magnification with the lens. Strictly for looks.”

I had noticed that at Walgreens. “But stepmother!”

“Look at it this way Stephen. For years and years, Clark Kent has put on glasses like yours. “ She explained. “And no one recognizes him as Superman. Glasses will help to make sure that no one recognizes Stephen Crandall as Supergirl Stephie.”

I frowned and she apologized. “Sorry Stephen. I couldn't resist the Supergirl thing.”

I hadn't thought about my eyebrows. “Yeah, I guess you're right.” And I headed out to walk to school. As I walked, I hoped my friends, well acquaintances really, wouldn't perceive me as anything other than Stephen. I didn't really have close, real friends. Just kids I knew. I'd always been a loner. Given my new circumstances, perhaps that was a good thing now.

The morning, and through lunch, went without a hitch really. I did get a few comments like “Hey man. You really need a haircut.” But nothing that was any kind of a problem. Nobody really bothered me. And I revelled in wearing pants and, strange as it sounds, using the lavatory.

My last class of the day was math. The teacher called out the names on his class roster. As he made his way through the alphabet, I heard him call “Sally Jo Reynolds.”

I turned around and saw a hand go up in the back of the room and heard a voice reply. “Here!”

She saw me looking her way and grinned at me.

Camp Sissy Curls (After Camp)--part14

When math class ended, I made a beeline for my locker to get my things and get on my way home. I was eager that my first day remain “incident” free. And I didn't want to be confronted by Sally Jo Reynolds, if she was indeed a threat to me.

Out the school door I stepped. Walking along, I relished my boy's clothes and lack of diapers. I'd soon be home and it'd be “Stephie time” again until morning.

I walked into the front door and stepmother greeted me. “So how was your first day back Stephen?”

“Okay, no problems.” I replied.

“Good Stephen. I knew you'd be fine.” She smiled.

“Stepmother, I gotta get....”

“It's MOMMY, here at home Stephie!” She interrupted.

I groaned. “Mommy, I gotta get a special kind of calculator for math class.” And I took a slip of paper from my shirt pocket. “I wrote down the make and model number. My math teacher said the best place to find it is at Office Depot.”

“Well, we can go after supper. I'm sure Laura will have to get some things for school too and she can get them there. Now upstairs you go sweetie pie. Time for you to get all 'Stephied up' now.” She said.

“Aw mommy, can't that wait until after we go to Office Depot?” I pleaded. “I mean, we're going on school business. So can't I stay in my school clothes?”

“Nice try Stephie.” She laughed. “But no cigar! The rule is that you only dress as Stephen when you're in school. And you're not in school now and Office Depot certainly isn't school either. No arguments. Off you go.”

I moaned and headed for the stairs.

“Oh sweetie.” Stepmother called, as I climbed the first step. “Just get into your diapers and rhumba panties and training bra and then call for me. I got you a new outfit this afternoon. I want to see how it fits and you'll need my help with it. And I'll even do your braids for you!”

“Yes mommy. “ I mumbled.

“Oh---blue lace trimmed rhumba panties Stephie!” She added.

“Yes mommy.”

“Oh God!” I thought. “What horrid confection does she have for me now?”

Since we were going out, I heavily diapered myself with four Depends, even though I had peed twice at school. I didn't want a “leaking” repeat of my trip to Walgreens the week before. As I pulled up my blue lace trimmed rhumba panties, I wished I'd had a BM at school too. I hooked my training bra in place and called down to stepmother.

A minute later, she walked into my room carrying a hanger with a light blue, cotton dress on it. “What do you think Stephie?”

“It's nice mommy.” Was all I said.

As she picked out a full petticoat from my closet and a pair of blue lace trimmed anklets from my dresser, I looked it over. And it actually was nice, as far as dresses go. It was pretty simple, almost plain, compared to my other very “ornate” dresses. It was powder blue with a simple Peter Pan collar. Its puffed short sleeves were edged with matching plain, white trim. The very full skirt of the dress appeared to be knee length, or just slightly above it. No lace or frills of any kind edged the hem. It buttoned up the back. The bodice met the skirt of the dress with a simple, elasticized seam. No sash or bow to tie in the back.

With my petticoats and anklets on, stepmother helped me into the dress. “You know, if this fits you right and you like it, it also comes in a light green too Stephie.”

“Yes please mommy.” I said. Simpler dresses were good with me.

She strapped black Mary Janes onto my feet and stood me in front of the full length mirror. “It fits perfectly honey! Don't you think? I'll get the green one tomorrow.”

“Yes mommy.” I replied.

Then she did my braids and finished them off with matching light blue ribbons. And I headed downstairs to watch TV before dinner.

As I clicked on the set, dad walked in from work. “New dress Stephie?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Well it looks very pretty on you Stephanie!” He smiled. “And how was day one of school sweetheart?”

“Fine daddy. No problems.”

After dinner, stepmother, Laura and I drove to Office Depot. Laura and stepmother headed in one direction for felt tipped markers and pocket folders for Laura and I headed for the aisle with calculators. I felt a little scared. I was by myself and there were lots of parents and kids shopping for school supplies like we were. And there were probably kids from my school in the store. But I had fooled everyone so far, so why should this be any different I thought. And besides, I wasn't dressed so “prissy” and “frilly” like I usually was. My simple dress made me feel a lot less selfconscious.

I took the slip of paper from the palm of my hand and opened it and started scanning the shelves for the right calculator. I quickly spied it and took it off the shelf to examine more closely.

As I did a few calculations on it, I felt the very slight brush of somebody against the back, right side of my dress and petticoats. And I turned to find myself staring directly into the face of Sally Jo Reynolds!!! And she grinned at me exactly like she had earlier in math class. I turned away in a nano second and heard stepmother call from my left. “Is that the right calculator sweetheart?”

She couldn't have shown up at a more opportune moment. “Yes mommy.” And then, thinking quickly on my feet, I added. “This is the one HE needs.”

“Great.” She said. “C'mon, Laura's still got a few more things to get.”

I sneaked a quick peek over my right shoulder again to find Sally Jo examining the same calculator as mine. And I prayed that I had dodged a bullet.

As we walked to find Laura, I realized my diapers were quite damp. I had wet myself, in fear, just like I had done at Walgreens the week before. And I was very distressed over the habit I seemed to be falling into of wetting my diapers when I was scared. At least, there appeared to be no leaks. I had been wise to diaper myself so heavily.

We found Laura hemming and hawing over which pocket folders to get. When she finally made a decision, it was on to find spiral notebooks and number two pencils.

I tugged on stepmother's skirt and whispered. “Mommy, I wet my diapers and I think I'm gonna have to poop them any second!”

She took my calculator and put it in the shopping cart with Laura's things and then reached into her purse. “Here's the car keys.” She whispered. “Wait in the van for us. And be sure to open the windows if you poop yourself.”

Now I really regretted that I hadn't had a BM at school. I headed through the crowd of shoppers as quickly as I could. And just as quickly, my need to poop increased.

As I neared the exit, I exploded into the seat of my diapers. I rushed through the doors and took a quick look back over my shoulder. And to my horror, I saw Sally Jo not far behind me, grinning and pinching her nose.

Laura complained the whole ride home about my smelly diapers.

“She can't help it Laura.” Stepmother scolded. “Stop making such a big stink over it!”

“I'm not the one making the big stink mom.” Laura argued. “Stephie is!”

Later in bed, I struggled to fall asleep thinking about Sally Jo Reynolds.

3:20PM, the next day. Sally Jo smiled as I met her at her locker. “Hi sweetie. Right on time! Ready to earn a tape?” And she opened her purse and took it out briefly for me to see.

“Yeah, I suppose.” I mumbled.

“Well, I just want you to do a little shopping errand for me on your walk home. Get a few things that I need at Walgreens for me.” And she handed me three ten dollar bills and a shopping list.

I looked over the list and gasped in horror. The list included specific types and brands of lipstick, nail polish, makeup, hair rollers, and Kotex Tampons.

I groaned and pleaded. “Please, I can't buy these girl things!”

“Well, then I can't give you this video!” She replied.

I had no choice. I gulped and asked. “Can I have the video first?”

“No way! I'll be following close behind you and when you give me the purchases, I'll give you your first tape.” She grinned. “I promise.”

I started out, only to be stopped by her. “Hold on, I almost forgot!” And she reached into her purse and pulled out a small paper bag with something stuffed inside it.

She handed it to me. “Take these into the boys lavatory and put them on under your things. I'll check to see that you have them on under your clothes when you come out.” She warned.

A minute later, I stood in a stall, door closed, in the boys lavatory. I opened the bag and took out a pair of white, lace trimmed panties and a matching bra. They were obviously unlaundered and obviously, Sally Jo's. Probably from the day before. There were even a few “skid marks” in the seat of the panties. It wasn't pretty!

I removed my pants and underwear. I gritted my teeth as I pulled her panties up onto me. Now Sally Jo was actually a very cute, pretty girl. Someone who, under normal circumstances, would certainly catch my eye. Someone who, under normal circumstances, I'd love to get “up close and personal” with. But not like this. Her panties were gross and ripe with her scent.

I put my own underwear in my pants pocket and pulled them up over the panties. I removed my shirt and tee shirt and strapped on the bra and put them back on over it. I pushed the bra cups in as much as possible to keep my front flat. I tucked my shirttails in loosely to give more bulk to the shirt and show less “mounds” from the bra. I looked in the mirror, over my shoulder, at the back of my shirt. Fortunately, I couldn't see bra straps under it. And I left the lavatory.

Sally Jo greeted me. “All set?” And she put her hand on the back of my shirt and gave the bra strap a little snap. “Good.” She giggled. Then she looked around to see that the coast was fairly clear and she reached under the back of my shirt and into the back of my pants to feel the nylon and lace of her panties. Satisfied, she said. “Perfect, sissy boy. You're ready for your shopping errand.”

She followed behind me as I headed out, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. I kept “fluffing” my shirt out in front to avoid having “mounds” show under it. And it appeared to work. No one seemed to notice.

But a lot of people noticed me in Walgreens as I carried a hand basket and proceeded to fill it with makeup and lipstick and nail polish and hair rollers and, especially, tampons. I shopped as quickly as I could, though I was careful to get exactly what was on the list. I didn't want to have to come back in.

At the checkout, the cashier just rolled her eyes as she rang up my items.

“They're for my mother.” I lamely mumbled. “She's sick and house bound.”

She bagged my items and gave me the receipt and change. And as I left, I heard a woman behind me in line say to her husband something about a “boy” and a “pervert” and a “bra”.

Outside, I gave Sally Jo the receipt and change and bag. She inspected the contents and when satisfied with the items, she gave me the video.

“One down, two to go.” I thought.

“Good job sissy boy!” She said. And then she laughed. “And as an extra reward, you can keep my panties and bra. You're such a little sissy pervert, you'll probably get off in them when you get home!”

“No I won't. They're gross!” I cried.

I quickly rushed home and upstairs and got out of the panties and bra and stuffed them into a plastic bag. I popped the video, like I had done with the other, into the VCR in my room and played a little of it to make sure it was “authentic” and tossed it into the bag. I twist tied it closed and put it outside in the trash. And I went back upstairs and got all “Stephied” up.

I didn't really hear much from Sally Jo again until the middle of the second week of school. Sure, I got my share of “grins” from her and one time when she passed me in the hall, she gave me a mock curtsey and blew me a kiss. But I just ignored that.

But after lunch on Wednesday, there was again a pink envelope stuck in the vent of my locker. It read: “If you want to earn another video, meet me after school today at 3:20 at my locker.”

I certainly didn't WANT to earn another video, but I knew I HAD to. And I met her at precisely 3:20.

“Right on time.” She beamed. “Got another shopping errand for you at Walgreens on your way home.”

“Oh God no! Please no!” I protested.

“Oh relax sweetie. It's nothing girly. And it's nothing I'm sure you haven't bought before.” She said. “In fact, it's something for you! How much money do you have? Cuz since it's for you to keep, then it's for you to pay for.”

I looked in my wallet. “About eighteen bucks.”

“That's plenty.” And she reached into her purse and pulled out another small paper bag. And I gulped in fear as she placed it in my hands.

“Here, go to the boys lavatory and put in on under your pants. It's nothing new to you, believe me.”

A few minutes later, I emerged from the lavatory wearing a single Depends disposable under my underwear and pants. And Sally Jo patted my behind to feel and hear its crinkle. At least, I thought, it was better than wearing her raunchy panties. And a single diaper wouldn't show a bulge under my pants.

“Good sweetie!” She chuckled. “No need for a shopping list. You're getting only one thing---a package of Depends for yourself.”

“But why?” I asked.

“Well, I sure you have a need for them! Now get going. I'll follow behind.” And she gave me a little shove.

When we got off school property, she called from behind me. “Hold up there Stephen.” And she caught up to me and said. “Now, wet yourself babycakes.”

“Oh yes you do, if you want another video!” She answered with an evil grin.

In truth, I did have a slight need to pee but nothing urgent. And I knew, from experience, that a single Depends disposable wouldn't contain a lot of wetting. And I pleaded again. “Please don't make me wet myself!”

“Perhaps you'd like me to have you poop your diaper too!” She scolded.

“No, no---no!” I said.

“Well then, get going with the water works babycakes. Pronto!”

I slowly, exercising as much control as I could, began to wet myself. I didn't want a huge flood that would over saturate my Depends and cause an immediate leak.

After about a minute, I was done. And I saw no wet stain, thankfully, in the front of my pants. “I did it.” I moaned to Sally Jo in humiliation.

She sniffed the air in front of me. “Yup, I think I detect a slight scent of urine. Good baby!” And she laughed and added. “Do you need to poop your diapers too sweetie?”

“No thank you.”

“Well then, back on your way.” And she patted my behind.

But about a block later, I looked down in horror to discover a small, wet spot forming in front crotch of my pants. I gasped and immediately covered it with my school books. I knew I looked silly holding my books like I was. But it was my only alternative. As I walked, the spot got bigger and bigger. By the time we reached Walgreens, it was about the size of a softball.

Sally Jo stopped me at the entrance. “I'll hold your books for you while you get your Depends.” And she grabbed them from my hands. And she glanced down at my wet spot and then coldly looked back up at me and said. “Perfect!!!”

“Please, I want my books back.” I begged.

“I said, I'd hold your books for you!” She snarled.

Inside Walgreens was pretty much a blurr for me. I knew, from experience, what aisle to head for and I made a quick dash for it to the sound of laughter and giggling. I kept my eyes pretty much glued to the floor to avoid eye contact. I hoped nobody from school was in there. It didn't sound like it anyways.

I grabbed a package of Depends and was glad for it to cover my wet spot. That made me feel a little better and I quickly glanced about. Lots of tittering, laughing and giggling people. But, at least, no one I knew it seemed.

I got in line at the checkout. Two people ahead of me. An old lady who took forever fumbling with her pocketbook for exact change and then a mother, with her little daughter in tow.

“Mommy.” The little girl whispered. “He wet his pants.”

“Hush Amy, mind your own business.” Her mother scolded.

When my turn finally came, I plunked the Depends on the counter. It was the same cashier as last week's shopping errand.

“Well, you again!” She chortled. “Looks like you've made a wise and prudent purchase this time young man!”

I said nothing and just paid and got out of there as quickly as I could. Sally Jo followed behind me carrying my books. I carried my package of Depends in front of the crotch of my pants. I had been in such a hurry to get out of Walgreens that I hadn't asked for a bag for them. So now, I walked displaying my purchase to the world. But it was better than displaying my wet pants to the world.

As we reached my block, neighbors and kids were out and about and looked curiously at my package of Depends. In front of my house, Sally Jo handed me my school books and the video and said. “One more to go sweetie!”

I headed for the front door, hopeful that the coast would be clear.

I stepped inside and my hopes were immediately dashed. Stepmother was sitting in the living room reading and sipping a cup of tea and Laura was on the couch watching cartoons.

She looked up from her magazine. “Hi Stephen.” Then with a look of confusion, she added. “Why'd you buy diapers? We have plenty!” And she got up and before I could stop her, she took the Depends from my hands. And she gasped. “Oh Stephen!!!”

Laura looked up from the TV and laughed. “Sissy boy wet his pants! Sissy boy wet his pants!”

“Shut up Laura!” Stepmother scolded and turned her attention back to me. “Stephen, go upstairs and take a bath and get into your diapers and Stephie things and come back down and put your wet clothes in the washing machine. I'll do your braids and ribbons for you and we'll talk about your little accident.”

“Yes mommy.” I said with tears streaming down my face.

I stopped in the kitchen to pick up a plastic kitchen trash bag to put my wet diaper and video in and headed upstairs.

Half an hour later, I was clean and freshly diapered and all “Stephied” up. I tossed the wet Depends in the trash bag. I cued up the video in the VCR. It was authentic. Put it in the trash bag, twist tied it and headed downstairs. I tossed the bag in the garbage outside and made my way to the living room.

“You look very pretty Stephie. You put on one of my favorite dresses of yours.” Stepmother said. “Now c'mon into the kitchen and I'll do your braids and ribbons and we'll talk about your little accident.”

“Some little accident!!!” Laura shouted from the couch.

“Mommy, please stop her!” I cried. “I've had an awful afternoon.”

“Yes, you're right Stephie.” And she yelled at Laura. “One more word from you Laura and it's diapers and dresses and braids and ribbons for you too!”

Laura said no more. As stepmother braided my hair, I didn't dare explain the true circumstances that led to my “little accident”. I simply said that I didn't realize that I was wetting myself until it was too late and my first thought was “diapers at Walgreens”.

“Well Stephie,” stepmother consoled, “it's actually not all your own fault. You spend most of your time wearing and using diapers. You're so used to them that I could see how you might forget when you're not in them and have an accident.”

I said nothing in reply and just cried.

She wiped my face with a tissue and kissed me on the forehead. “It's okay sweetie pie. Mommy has a solution for any future little accidents.”

She was done with my braids and tied a pretty ribbon in each to match my dress and turned me around in my chair to face her. Then she pulled a kitchen chair in front of me and sat down and fondled my braids.

“Now Stephanie, hear me out before you start arguing and complaining. What I'm gonna say will make sense and is in your best interests. And it's NOT a punishment. Okay?”

“Okay.” I sniffled.

She wiped my nose with a tissue. “Stephie, from now on when you go to school, I want you to wear a Depends, just one, under your underwear and pants.”

“But mommy!!!” I cried.

“Just hear me out honey. I don't expect or WANT you to use it. I expect you to use the lavatory like normal. But it will be there as protection if you forget yourself and have a little accident.”

“Oh mommy!!! No!” I sobbed.

“Shhh!!!” She gently scolded. “No one will know it's there. There will be no bulge. One diaper's too small for that.”

“But the crackle!” I said.

“Nonsense. No one's gonna be listening and hear that. No one will know. I promise. Trust me. It's for your own good.” And she held my hands. “Understand Stephie? I'm not punishing you. I'm protecting you.”

I knew she was truly looking out for my best interests but had no way of knowing that a disposable diaper wasn't really necessary.

Well, the only good thing to come out of the whole situation of today was that a minute or two later, I stood in the living room with stepmother seated on the couch and a crying and kicking and screaming Laura across her knees with pants down around her ankles. Stepmother kept Laura's panties in place (I was glad for that) as she gave her ten hard whacks with a hairbrush.

And better yet, about half an hour later, after much yelling and screaming and crying and commotion; a very forlorn and contrite and red faced Laura walked downstairs from her bedroom with stepmother following behind. And Laura was decked out in the frilliest and prissiest concoction I owned. And massive, bulging diapers encased in my frilliest diaper rhumba panties peaked out from under the mountain of petticoats she was wearing under the dress. The ribbons in her braids, of course, matched the dress perfectly.

“I'm gonna keep you dressed like that Laura until you thoroughly wet and poop your diapers. Even if it means you have to stay like that all night and miss school tomorrow!!!” Stepmother yelled.

“I hate you!” Laura screamed and stompted her feet. “I hate the both of you!”

Well, there was a downside to it all, though. Mother Nature soon took its course for both me and Laura. Because, not long after dinner, both she and I totally wet and pooped ourselves.

Dad, who was home by now of course, quickly grew weary of the stink of two little baby girls in the house. It was a warm night with a gentle breeze and he set the playpen up outside on the back deck. “You two stinky babies can just sit outside in the playpen until bedtime so we can have some fresh air in here!”

Laura and I spent the next hour sitting, mostly speechless, in the playpen outside on the deck; suffering the stink of our own and each other's poopy diapers. I felt like I was in the Diaper Derby back at Camp Sissy Curls.

“I'm gonna make you pay for this sissy boy!!!” Laura snarled, just before we were brought back inside from our stinky prison for bedtime.

The next school day, and those afterward, I dutifully put a Depends on under my underwear and slacks as stepmother had insisted upon. But I wasn't stupid. I didn't really need it. As soon as I'd get to school, I head for the boys lavatory and take it off, stuff it in my book bag and hide it in my locker. Then I'd put it back on at dismissal. No “crinkle” noise during the day. And no worries about changing into my phys. ed. clothes in the locker room.

And it wasn't until the end of the third week of school, Friday, that a pink envelope appeared in the vent of my locker again summoning me to earn my last video.

“Hi sweetie. Right on time as always!” Sally Jo gushed. “Ready to earn the last video?”

“Is it really the last video?” I skeptically asked.

“Yup. It really is. I promise. No more videos after this one.”

I gulped. “Okay then.”

“Well, c'mon.” And she took my hand. “One last trip to Walgreens.”

I pulled my hand from her's. “No, not again!”

She took me by the hand again and warned. “You know you don't have a choice.”

She was right, of course. Unlike before, she walked along beside me holding my hand. We must have appeared like boyfriend and girlfriend. Under normal circumstances, I'd have been thrilled. She was really quite cute! But now, I certainly was not thrilled.

Just off school grounds, she stopped and let go of my hand. “Man, it's really hot and humid. Gotta be in the mid eighties.”

She was right again. We were experiencing an Indian Summer. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and reached into her purse and took out a small, elastic band. She gathered up her long, straight sandy hair in a bunch. She brought it up to the crown of her head and secured it there in a long, perky ponytail with the elastic band.

“Much better. “ She sighed. “A lot cooler this way.” And she shook her head tossling her ponytail back and forth.

Then she reached back into her purse and took out another elastic band and looked at me with a devilish grin.

My great pleading fell on deaf ears, of course. Because a minute later, the crown of my head sported a long, perky, girlish ponytail just like hers. And there was nothing I could do to hide it. It wouldn't have been so bad if she had tied it at the nape of my neck. Guys with long hair often had ponytails hanging from there. But from the top of my head! Well, that was definitely “girlie” and definitely her intent.

As we walked along, hand in hand, I got lots of weird looks and laughs from people who saw me. “Geez Crandall!” Called one kid from my social studies class. “I always thought your hair was a bit girlie but that's just downright SISSY!”

The teasing and laughter was awful. But it was soon to get even worse, after we entered Walgreens. We walked to the aisle of hair care products and accessories. Sally Jo searched the rack of hair accessories and took off a large, pink, clip-on hair bow and a pair of pink hair barrettes. I moaned loudly and started to tear up.

She handed them to me with a five dollar bill. “Here you go sweetie. It's my treat!”

Some treat, I thought.

Naturally, the same cashier as both times before greeted me and chuckled. “Well, you're becoming quite a regular customer here. But at least you're dry!” And she picked up the hair bow and barrettes to scan them and eyeballed my ponytail and added. “Nice touch honey!” And I heard Sally Jo giggle from behind me.

Outside Walgreens, I cried as Sally Jo fixed the large, pink hair bow to my ponytail and clipped a barrette to each side of my head. And, as I said before, the rest of the walk home was even worse. Tons of curious, odd looks from passersby. Looks of wonder really---wonder about whether I was really a boy or a girl.

But as we reached my neighborhood, the looks weren't looks of wonder. They were looks of disbelief. Disbelief at the sight of Stephen Crandall walking down the street wearing a perky ponytail and a pink hair bow and barrettes. Neighbors, kids just gawked at me and pointed and laughed. Mr. Horton, who lived across the street and was out at his mailbox, laughed and called over. “Hey Stephen! What's up? Did you lose some kind of a bet or something?”

Eureka, I thought. “Yeah! You got that right!” I chuckled. “I lost a stupid bet. Dumb me!”

“I should think so!” He called back.

At the sidewalk to my front door, Sally Jo gave me the last video. Then she straightened my hair bow and giggled. “Perfect! See you in school sweetie.” She watched me until I entered the house to make sure I didn't undo any of my girlie hairdo.

I peeked inside and saw no one. But I'd gotten only two or three steps inside when Laura came bounding downstairs and into the living room for the couch and TV. “Oh my God!” She cied. “Mom, come see Stephen!”

I started to dash for upstairs just as stepmother came from the kitchen.

“Oh Stephen!!!” She gasped. “ Why on earth is your hair like that???”

I stared at the floor and sniffled and mumbled. “I lost a bet.”

“What???”

“I lost a STUPID bet with someone at school!” I said, almost in a shout now.

“Stupid is putting it mildly!” She yelled. “A boy in a ponytail and hairbow is stupid. But a boy who is trying to keep secret his other life as Stephie---well that's just plain, damn ridiculous! What were you thinking???”

“I don't know.” I sobbed. “I didn't think I'd lose the bet.”

“Yeah, well you may have lost a lot more than a bet!” She warned. “What an idiotic thing to do Stephen! Now go upstairs and diaper up and get into a dress and petties. And make it a pink dress, to match your hair bow and barrettes. You can just keep your hair like it is for tonight so your father can see it.”

“Yeah, it looks cute like that!” Laura taunted.

As I diapered myself and pulled on rhumba panties and petticoats and a pink dress, I thought about what my stepmother had said. But I could get away with it, if I just stuck fast to my story about “losing a bet”.

Before I headed back downstairs, I checked the video in the VCR. It was the Real McCoy. At least, I finally had them all now. Why, I don't know, but I didn't throw it away. Instead, I hid it in a box of old toys on the top shelf in my closet. Maybe I'd need it in the future as evidence if I ever wanted to bring a law-suit for child abuse against Camp Sissy Curls or my parents or somebody! I knew that wouldn't really happen, but for some reason, I felt the need to hang on to it.

When dad got home, he was just as dumbfounded as stepmother about my situation. I just cried with much embarrassment as he, pretty much, just reiterated everything stepmother had said to me. I knew it would be a challenge to explain myself in school and the neighborhood.

I spent the next couple of weeks, in both school and the neighborhood, doing “damage control” on my so-called image, such as it was. I received a good amount of comments and questions and taunts and teasing about the ponytail and hair bow. But I responded to them, light heartedly and jokingly, with the excuse of “losing a dumb bet”. And my little ploy seemed to go over reasonably well, because by mid October, the whole matter seemed to be pretty much history. I'm sure some people still viewed me as being a little weird, sissy even. A bit “fruity” perhaps. But that was okay. I had always been a loner, had no real friends, was normally paid little attention to. The situation seemed quickly forgotten in my anonymity. Of course, I'd never step foot in Walgreens again!

Thankfully, Sally Jo left me alone. Not even “grins”. I had, afterall, earned all the videos. She couldn't hold them over my head anymore.

On Friday of the third week in October, as I got into my “Stephie” persona after school, I felt a sense of relief. The humiliations of earning my videos were behind me and, hopefully, forgotten by those who had witnessed them. My secret life as Stephanie was still in the closet, literally and figuratively. Even being Stephanie was, by now, pretty routine; though I still hated it with a passion. Especially the diapers! And even Laura had backed off on me a lot. Her spankings and her times in sissy outfits and wet, poopy stinky diapers must have done the trick.

I walked downstairs, fixing my dress over my petticoats, and made my way to the kitchen for a soda. Stepmother was sitting at the kitchen table sorting through the mail. She looked up and smiled. “Very pretty Steph!”

“Thanks mommy.” I replied as I opened the fridge.

“How was school sweetheart?”

“Fine.”

“How about your ridiculous ponytail and hair bow bet???” She asked. “Getting a lot of flak about that?”

“No.” I replied. “That's pretty much a dead issue now.”

“Well, you're lucky Stephanie. You dodged a bullet. Don't you dare do anything so stupid like that again!!!” She warned.

“I won't mommy. “ I said, as I sat down at the table.

“Mrs. Bates called this afternoon wanting to set up a play date for you and Constance. I told her I'd bring you by tomorrow after lunch.”

“Awe mommy!” I groaned. But my groan actually turned into a little grin when I looked at stepmother and saw the gleam in her eyes and a smirk on her face. We were both thinking the same thing---we'd see “Master Bates” there. It had become an inside joke to us.

“Any mail for me?” I asked.

“Nope.” And then she thought again. “But that reminds me. Do you know a girl from school named Sally Jo Reynolds?”

I gagged a little on my soda and thought quickly and replied. “No I don't. I've never heard of her.” I surely didn't want stepmother to know of my “relationship” with her. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, stuffed in with the mail was this flier advertising her babysittting services. And apparently, she doesn't live that far from here and goes to your school.”

I scanned the flier. It explained that she was available for babysittting. It said that she was fourteen, very reliable, well experienced, had taken babysitting classes at my school and had references. And it gave her address and phone number.

“She must have put them in all the mailboxes around here.” Stepmother said. Neither of us had any way of knowing that our mailbox was the only one to receive this flier. “She sounds capable!” Stepmother added, as she got up from her seat and stuck it on the refridgerator with a magnet.

I gasped in horror!

Over the weekend, I'd cringe every time I went to the refridgerator for something and saw Sally Jo's flier. I thought about taking it down and throwing it out but figured stepmother would know I'd done it. Could stepmother seriously be considering taking advantage of Sally Jo's babysitting services? But that didn't make sense to me. I mean, Sally Jo and I were in the same grade. And I had actually babysat Laura a number of times last Spring, before I was Stephanie. What could stepmother be thinking???

Much to my extreme dismay, I found out the following Tuesday evening just after dinner. I was sitting on the couch reading an American Girl Magazine (required reading for me by stepmother) and stepmother was busy in the kitchen washing the dishes. Dad had taken Laura to the store for some supplies for a science project she had in school.

The front doorbell rang. “Steph honey!” Stepmother called from the kitchen. “Could you get that? I'll be out in a second.”

I got up and tugged my dress back down over my petticoats and went to the door. And my jaw dropped when I opened it.

“What are you doing here?” I growled quietly so stepmother wouldn't hear.

All Sally Jo had time for was a “grin” before stepmother came to the door, drying her hands with a dish towel. “Hi, you must be Sally Jo. Please come in.”

“Yes I am.” She replied.

“Thank you for coming. I'm Mrs. Crandall and this is my lovely niece Stephanie. She's eight years old.” She said, as she adjusted a ribbon in one of my braids.

When I said nothing in reply, stepmother scolded. “Please greet her like a proper young lady Stephie.”

I winced and girlishly curtsied to her and said only “hello”. And I had no idea why, but I felt my weiner stiffen in the front of my diapers. It had to be because she was really cute, I figured. Strange as it may sound, being seen now by Sally Jo at home as Stephanie was incredibly embarrassing and humiliating. Sure, she had seen me in very embarrassing circumstances when I was “earning” my videos. Afterall, she was responsible for those situations. And she had seen me as Stephie at least once that I knew of, at Office Depot buying my calculator.

But standing in front of her, here at my house, as a very demure and proper and prissy little, eight year old girl was horribly demeaning.

“Well, you're a very lovely young lady Stephanie! And you look very pretty in your dress and petticoats. It's nice to meet you.” Sally Jo gushed as she gave me her devilish grin and shook my hand.

I was relieved when stepmother walked Sally Jo toward the couch and said. “Please sit down Sally Jo and we'll talk.” And she handed me my magazine and said. “Run along up to your bedroom Stephie and you can read your magazine up there.”

“American Girl Magazine was one of my favorites when I was her age.” I heard Sally Jo say to stepmother as I walked toward the stairs.

And as I took the first step, stepmother called to me. “”Stephie honey! Your petticoats are showing in the back.”

As I fiddled with the back of my dress, I heard Sally Jo say to stepmother. “Petticoats are so pretty! So girlie! But they sure can be a nuisance.”

“That's very true.” Stepmother said. “But she adores her pretty dresses and petticoats and insists on wearing them.”

“I think that's sweet Mrs. Crandall.”

And though I burned with embarrassment, I didn't go to my bedroom. Instead, I very quietly sat on the steps midway up and out of sight to listen to stepmother and Sally Jo talk.

“As I said when we talked on the phone the other day Sally Jo, there are times when I could use some one to babysit Stephanie and my daughter Laura. She's eight years old too. They're both good girls but they're both exact opposites.” Stepmother explained. “Laura's a real rough and tumble Tomboy. She's out shopping with my husband right now.”

“My little sister is a real Tomboy too.” Sally Jo offered.

“I have to confess that I wish her cousin Stephanie would rub off on her more.” And stepmother took a breath. “But anyways, I understand that you have experience and have had babysitting classes at school and have references. May I see them please?”

“Sure Mrs. Crandall.” And Sally Jo handed her a list of families.

“Wow!” Stepmother said as she read down the list. “You babysit for the Bates'. Stephie and Laura sometimes play with Constance and Edward.”

Stepmother giggled and moved on. “Now I understand that you go to the same school as my stepson, Stephen Crandall. Do you know him by any chance?”

“No, I'm afraid I don't. The name doesn't ring a bell.”

“Well, anyways, my husband and I have a wedding and reception to go to this Saturday and we're not taking the girls. And Stephen won't be around. He's spending the weekend at his cousin's house. Could you babysit Laura and Stephie? It'll involve most of the day and fairly late into the night. The wedding's about an hour's drive from here.”

As soon as I heard the door close, I raced downstairs crying my eyes out. “No mommy---no!!! We don't need a babysitter. I can babysit Laura. I've done it before!”

“You were listening from the steps young lady, weren't you?” Stepmother scolded.

“Yes!” I cried.

“Well, just as well. So you know what's going on Saturday.”

“But I can babysit Laura. You know I can. I have before.” I pleaded.

“That's not exactly true Stephie. STEPHEN has babysat Laura, but YOU haven't!”

“Oh, c'mon mommy! For crying out loud!!!” I argued.

“Don't use that tone with me young lady!” Stepmother said crossly. “Both you and Laura need a babysitter.”

“But why???” I sobbed.

“We can't leave two little eight year old girls on their own for most of the day and night while we travel an hour away to a wedding without the supervision of an older person or a proper babysitter.” She explained. “What would the neighbors think? And more importantly, what would the authorities say, if God forbid, something happened and they discovered that we had left our two little girls all alone. Your father and I could go to jail!”

“But mommy, I'm the same age as Sally--whatever her name is.” I added the last part to reinforce not knowing her. “And I'm just as capable as she is!”

“Yes, of course you are dear.” And she seated me and herself on the couch to calm us both down. “But again, if something happened, heaven forbid, and the neighbors or the authorities had to come to the house---well just think about that. Would you be eager to explain to them, dressed as a prissy little girl in a frilly dress and petticoats and braids and ribbons and DIAPERS; that you're really a thirteen year old boy who genuinely is capable and old enough to babysit Laura?”

I did understand her point but argued. “Then let me be Stephen on Saturday!”

“Sorry. But you know we hold fast to the rule that you're only Stephen in school.” And she took my hands in hers. “Relax Stephie. Don't get your petties all in a bunch!”

I immediately looked down at my dress to adjust it over my petticoats. And stepmother laughed. “Your petties are fine sweetie! It was just a figure of speech.” And she kissed me on the cheek. “And you'll be fine too on Saturday. Just be your normal pretty little self. And besides, you don't even know Sally Jo. And, I'm sure you heard, she doesn't know Stephen.”

If only that was really true, I thought. I knew that Saturday would be pure Hell for me.

Words couldn't describe how much I dreaded the upcoming Saturday. In school, Sally Jo ignored me until Friday when, after lunch, a pink envelope waited for me in the vent of my locker. The note read: “Hi sweetie! I can't wait until tomorrow. I'm going to really enjoy babysitting you and Laura!---Sally Jo.” And in math class, she grinned and blew me a kiss.

And right at one o'clock on Saturday afternoon, the doorbell rang. Stepmother opened the door and Sally Jo wasn't alone. A girl, about the same age, stood next to her.

“Hi Sally Jo! Right on time.” And stepmother looked at the other girl. “And who might this be?”

“Hi Mrs. Crandall. This is my cousin Amy. My aunt and uncle and Amy are up here from Florida visiting. I was wondering if she could help me babysit today? If you're not comfortable with that, it's okay. She'll just walk back to my house.” And Sally Jo smiled at stepmother.

“Gosh, thanks Mrs. Crandall. Amy's only here for a few days and I want to make the most of them.” Sally Jo gratefully replied.

“The girls are upstairs. They'll be down in a minute. Why don't you have a seat on the couch Amy. I want to have a word with Sally Jo.” And stepmother put her hand on Sally Jo's shoulder. “Step into the kitchen with me for a moment, would you?”

“Really Mrs. Crandall, if Amy's a problem, she can head back home.” Sally Jo repeated.

“Oh no Sally Jo. It's not that at all! I can certainly understand that you want to make the most of your time with her.” And stepmother pulled out a chair for Sally Jo at the table. “Have a seat.”

Stepmother sat across from her. “When we met on Tuesday, I totally forgot to tell you about a little problem involving Stephanie. It's not really a big thing! And it truly won't involve you at all.” And stepmother paused in thought for a moment. “You see, I'm afraid my dear little niece is prone to having accidents.”

“You mean, she trips or falls a lot?” Sally Jo inquired.

“No, not accidents like that.” Stepmother replied. “She's prone to having accidents in her panties. You know, she sometimes forgets and wets or messes herself.”

“Yes. And for that reason, she wears disposable diapers and plastic lined diaper pants under her things.” And stepmother stood up. “But I can assure you, it'll be absolutely no problem for you or involve you in any way. You won't be changing any diapers on this job.”

“Okay Mrs. Crandall.”

“Stephie's really very self-reliant. If she messes her diapers, she simply goes upstairs to her bedroom and cleans herself up and changes herself into new diapers. You don't need to do a thing!”

“Sure Mrs. Crandall. No problem. Thanks.”

“Great!” And stepmother picked up a sheet of paper sitting on the table. “And here's a list of important phone numbers---my cell, emergency numbers, the next door neighbor's name and number, where we are. All that sort of thing. And I'll call later on tonight to see how things are going.”

“Sounds good Mrs. Crandall. We'll all be fine.” Sally Jo assured.

“Well, c'mon back into the living room and I'll call the girls down and my husband and I will be on our way.”

From the bottom of the stairs, stepmother called. “C'mon down girls! Sally Jo's here and we're leaving.”

Laura hopped and jumped down the stairs wearing a typical Tomboy outfit of jeans and a simple top and Keds. Hair like a bird's nest. And I daintily descended the steps behind her in a typical sissy outfit of a frilly, prissy short dress, full with countless yards of stiff net, white petticoats, and lace trimmed anklets and black, patent leather Maryjanes. And of course, the ribbons in my braids matched my dress perfectly.

I gasped and I'm sure my face turned beet red from embarrasssment when I saw the “new face” in the living room. Whoever she was, Sally Jo must have certainly told her I was a thirteen year old boy. As introductions were made, I diverted my attention to the floor.

“Your dress is very pretty Stephanie! It's nice to meet you.” Amy said standing directly in front of me.

“You too.” I mumbled, red faced and eyes still glued to the floor.

“Oh c'mon Stephie!” Stepmother scolded. “Greet her correctly like a proper young lady!”

I gulped and looked up. “It's nice to meet you Amy.” And as I held out my dress and petticoats and curtsied, I felt my weiner stiffen inside the front of my diapers. It was so very humiliating. Here I was. A thirteen year old boy, of which they were certainly aware, standing in front of two pretty girls my own age wearing a short, frilly, prissy little girl's dress that was almost parallel to the floor from the mountain of poufie petticoats supporting it. And wearing diapers and rhumba panties under it. And feet adorned in anklets and Maryjanes. And a head from which dangled two long braids tied with ribbons to match my dress and a made-up face complete with lipstick. And I was curtseying like a “proper young lady”. And, despite my intense embarrrassment and shame, I was aroused. My little soldier was standing at full attention!!! What was wrong with me??? Well, they were quite pretty girls, I rationalized.

“Be good Laura and Stephie and listen to and mind Sally Jo and Amy while we're gone!” Stepmother called back, as she followed dad out the front door.

“Well, I'm sure we're all going to have a good time tonight!” Sally Jo cheerfully announced to me, Laura and Amy.

“Goodie!!!” Chuckled Laura.

“Laura and Stephie, will you two please have a seat on the couch?” Sally Jo directed. “I wanna go over some ground rules for today.”

Laura groaned and plopped herself on the couch while I carefully smoothed my dress and petticoats behind me and sat down next to her with my hands folded in my lap. And Amy took a seat next to me and fiddled with the hem of my dress, adjusting it down over my petticoats.

“Petticoats are very pretty and very girlie, but they can be a real pain to wear.” She said to me, as she slipped her right hand into my lap and on top of my hands. I said nothing and just hung my head in shame. But the feel of her hands on mine felt good. And the smell of her perfume was wonderful. And I couldn't fathom why this pretty girl would want to sit next to and touch a sissyboy like me!

Sally Jo stood in front of us. “Now girls, I expect you to behave and obey me and do as I say. And as Amy says too! And if you do, I'm sure we'll have a nice time together today. Do you understand girls?”

“Yeah.” Laura said. And I just nodded “yes”.

“I didn't hear you Stephie!” Sally Jo admonished.

I looked up and said. “Yes Sally Jo.”

“Very good, girls.” And Sally Jo looked at Amy. “Amy, there's something you need to be aware of regarding sweet little Stephanie here. She's actually a very special little girl with some special needs.”

“Yeah, she sure is SPECIAL!!!” Laura interjected.

“Don't interrupt Laura!” And she continued with Amy. “I'm afraid our little Stephie here needs to wear diapers and plastic pants under her clothes at all times cuz she tends to have accidents. She often wets and poops herself.”

Oh God, this was so humiliating and I started to blubber like a little baby.

“Oh, it's okay sweetie!” Amy said, as she put her arm around me.

“But she cleans herself up and changes her own diapers.” Sally Jo continued. “No hassle for us Amy.”

“Oh, stop crying Stephie.” Amy cooed and she gently pushed my head against her shoulder. “We understand that little girls sometimes have accidents.”

“Well, that brings up another thing Amy.” Sally Jo said, as she grinned at me. “You see, she's NOT so little!”

“What do you mean Sally Jo?”

“Well, Stephie's actually thirteen, not eight.”

“Oh my!” Amy gasped.

“And she's NOT actually a girl! She's a boy!” Sally Jo exclaimed.

Amy pulled her arms from around me and stood up and looked down at me. “You're pulling my leg Sally Jo. No way she could be a thirteen year old BOY! I mean, just look at her. And besides, no boy would allow himself to be turned into a little girl in diapers and dresses and braids and ribbons. No way!!!”

“Way!” Sally Jo replied.

“Yup, way!” Laura added with a giggle.

“I don't believe it. You guys are trying to pull a fast one on me.” And Amy put her hands on her hips. “She can't be a boy!”

I covered my tear soaked face with my hands. And I was surpised that Sally Jo hadn't already told Amy about me before they came. But I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. Sally Jo must have purposely waited to expose me in front of Amy to heighten my embarrassment and humiliation and shame.

“Okay Amy. I'm gonna prove it to you.” And then Sally Jo said. “Laura, please go upstairs and play in your bedroom for awhile. You're not gonna want to see this and you're too young to anyways.”

“No!!!” I shouted. I knew what was coming. “I don't need to do what you tell me anymore!”

“Really! Well perhaps a good bare bum spanking across my knee is necessary?” She warned.

“I won't let you do that to me!” I said with resolve. “I don't have to!”

“Silly boy, you mean because you got the videos?” She sneered.

“Yup!” And I could see a look of puzzlement on Amy's face. She must not have known what the “video thing” was all about.

Sally Jo just gave a hearty laugh. “You stupid, foolish little sissyboy. I don't need those videos!” She yelled. “All I gotta do is spread the word around school that STEPHEN and STEPHANIE are one in the same. Outside of school, Stephen's a pretty little, petticoated eight year old girl who wets and poops her diapers. And I know that's a big secret you work very hard to keep.”

Oh dear God, another “barrel” I realized.

“Now, are you ready to do as you're told sissyboy?” She grinned.

I looked up at her pleadingly. “Please no!!!”

“Shut up and stand up!” Sally Jo commanded.

It took all the grit I could muster to obey her. And I stood up to face Sally Jo and Amy, bawling my eyes out.

“Lift up the front of your dress and petticoats.” Sally Jo ordered.

“Please!!!” I begged.

“Do it, or the word gets out about Stephie!” Sally Jo warned.

I lifted them.

“Higher! Up above your panties and waist, you big pantywaist!” And Sally Jo giggled at her own little play on words.

I closed my eyes and I heard Amy gasp at the sight of the frilly rhumba panties covering my bulbous diapers. And Sally Jo proceed to tug them down around my ankles. And I felt my very erect wiener “waving in the breeze”. And I heard an even louder gasp from Amy.

“Oh my God! You weren't kidding! He IS a boy!!!” Amy exclaimed.

“Well, sissyboy really.” Sally Jo corrected.

I was so humiliated, yet so aroused!

“I can't believe a boy would allow himself to be turned into a little girl. And in diapers too!” Amy said, as she gave my very stiff member a little swat causing it to swing back and forth like the pendulum on a Grandfather clock.

“Well, I think it's pretty obvious that he enjoys it Amy. I mean, just look at the Woody he has!”

“Yeah, I guess you're right. What a freakin' pervert!” I heard Amy reply.

“Head up sissyboy! And open your eyes. “ Sally Jo said, as she sat on the couch. “Now just to show you I mean business, get over my kness.”

“Please! Please don't spank me!” I begged.

“You've got five seconds to get over my knee, or instead of ten whacks, I'll give you fifteen!”

I quickly moved into place. And she pulled up my dress and petticoats exposing my bare bum and took a hair brush from her purse.

“How many did I say Stephie?” She asked me.

“Ten.” I whimpered.

“What's that? Did you say fifteen?”

“Ten.” I whimpered again.

“Twenty???” She chuckled.

Well now I knew better than to answer. And as Sally Jo raised the brush for the first whack, she was interrupted by a call from Laura, who must have been listening out of sight on the stairs. “Can I please watch? Please???”

“Well, I suppose.” Sally Jo called back. “I guess a bare behind is nothing you haven't seen before.”

Fifteen resounding whacks later, I was stood back up on my feet. My chest was heaving and I was crying buckets and my cherry red bottom was on fire. I was stood facing into a corner of the living room, with my diapers and rhumba panties still about my ankles. I was ordered to hold the back of my dress and petticoats up over my red, blistered bottom and left like that for almost an hour to think about “the error of my ways”, as Sally Jo had said.

As I held that humiliating postion, Sally Jo and Amy and Laura sat on the couch watching TV, pausing frequently from what they were watching to thoroughly ridicule and tease me.

Well Ahiru and sweatergirl, I actually just sat down now at the computer to type in part 24, which I truly penned in rough copy before all this came up. Parts 23 and 24 are in no way the result of comments here. But I thought I'd take the time to respond to both of your well thought out and well received comments.

To be honest Ahiru, I very purposely try to put “drastic changes” and a “conflicting feel” in my stories. And I'm glad that's apparent. I feel it helps to make a story more interesting (and fun for me, I admit). It's the “spice” in any story.

Part 24, which I hope you'll both respond to after I type it in (it's quite long and will take many hours to type--my keyboarding skills aren't great), has a lot of punishment and humiliation for Stephie--a lot! But it does have some VERY positive moments for her too. The “drastic changes” and “conflicting feel” that I aim for.

Well anyhow, I really enjoy all this discussion. Gotta start typing part 24.

And when the program they were watching ended, Sally Jo clicked off the TV and struck up a conversation specifically with Laura. “So Laura, do you like having a sister around?”

“Well, yeah, I guess so.” And she thought a moment and added. “But not always.”

“What do you mean?” Sally Jo asked.

“Well, it's fun to see him dressed up so sissy. And in diapers too. He hates it and gets so embarrassed. And I like that!”

“I'm sure.” Sally Jo said. “But what don't you like?”

“I sure don't like it when I have to put up with the smell of his poopy diapers. Like when we're in the van or out somewhere and he poops himself.”

“Yeah, that must be gross!” Sally Jo laughed.

“Oh yeah!” Laura replied. “But what I don't like the most is when the little sissy gets me in trouble with my mother and she punishes me. And it's not my fault!”

Now of course, I had to listen to all of this from my position in the corner without responding or defending myself.

“How are you punished?” Amy interjected.

Laura clammed up, her face red with embarrassment.

“It's okay Laura!” Amy soothed, as she put her arm around her. “You can tell us. Don't be embarrassed.”

“Well.” And Laura sniffled and teared up. “Last time he got me in trouble, my mother dressed me up all sissy like him. Even braids and ribbons. And she spanked me and put diapers and plastic pants on me like him.”

“Oh you poor thing!” Sally Jo comforted. “Did she make you wet and poop your diapers like Stephie?”

Laura shook her head up and down. “Yeah! And then she put me in the playpen on the deck with sissyboy in his poopy diapers.”

“How awful for you!” Sally Jo replied.

“Yeah, but I'll get sissyboy back for it!”

Sally Jo grinned. “I'm sure you will Laura.”

And Sally Jo got up and walked over to me. “Okay you little pantywaist. Corner time's up.” As she pulled up my diapers and rhumba panties and adjusted my dress and petties, she called to Amy. “Amy, Mrs. Crandall left some money on the kitchen table so we could order some pizza for supper. Would you call Pizza Hut and order it? Have it delivered.”

“Sure.” Amy said.

I struggled sitting at the kitchen table as we all ate our pizza. My butt was really sore!

“So Laura!” Sally Jo said as she munched on a slice of pizza. “What would you like to do tonight to, I mean WITH Stephie?”

I caught the implication but Laura didn't.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

Sally Jo giggled and whispered in her ear. “A little payback maybe?”

“Yeah!!!” Laura laughed and Sally Jo grinned back at her.

Of course, I hadn't heard what Sally Jo had whispered to Laura but I knew, whatever it was, wouldn't bode well for me. I shuddered wondering what Laura would come up with.

Laura was quiet for a minute, deep in thought. But then she chimed in. “Could we play house tonight?” She asked Sally Jo. “I could be the mommy and sissyboy could be my little baby girl and you and Amy could be her big sisters!”

“Please not that!” I pleaded.

“Like you have a choice Stephie???” Sally Jo replied.

“Sissyboy has baby girl clothes up in his bedroom. I've seen them!” She bubbled. “He's got a pretty baby dress and a bonnet and a bib and even a pacifier, I think. And he's already in diapers, of course.”

“Sounds great Laura! Good idea!” Sally Jo said.

“Yeah, it'll be fun!” Amy eagerly added.

Some fun, I thought.

After supper, the girls took me upstairs to my bedroom. Amy and Sally Jo were amazed at all the “little girl finery” they found in my dresser drawers and closet. “Wow! Any little girl would die to have all this!” Amy gushed.

“Not me!” Laura exclaimed.

“Well, MOST little girls!” Amy added with a giggle.

The girls were thrilled to find my baby dress and its petticoats and bonnet and all my other baby things. I surely wasn't thrilled though.

They undressed me and started “babying” me up. As Sally Jo took the frilly, white and pink baby dress from its hanger, Laura said. “I think he's got special matching diaper panties for that somewhere.”

“Gee, thanks Laura!” I said sarcastically.

“Hush up Baby Stephie!” Laura scolded and then stuck a pink pacifier in my mouth. “Don't talk to your mommy like that! Or I'll give you a good spanking.” And she looked at Sally Jo and Amy sheepishly and asked. “Can I do that if Baby Stephie misbehaves?”

Sally Jo and Amy roared with laughter and Sally Jo nodded her head up and down and answered. “You're in charge MOMMY!”

“Goodie!” Laura giggled and she went to my dresser and sifted through the drawers and found the matching diaper panties.

A few minutes later, the girls finished me up by tying the prissy matching baby bonnet in a huge bow under my chin and attached large, white bows to my braids that dangled beneath it.

“Perfect!” Laura said, as she looked me over head to toe. “Let's go downstairs.”

“That does it!” Laura yelled in my face. And she walked over to my bed and sat down on it and looked at me and patted her knees. Then, in a motherly tone, she said. “Sally Jo, would you be a dear and get me your hair brush?”

I started to bolt from the room but Sally Jo and Amy each took an arm and held me in place. And Sally Jo whispered in my ear. “You better do as she says Stephie. I got my digital camera in my purse. Some pix of all of this would be a great way to let kids at school in on your little Stephen/Stephie secret.”

I cried uncontrollably as I positioned myself across her knees and felt the back of my baby dress and petties go up and my diapers and rhumba panties go down.

“How many do you think girls?” Laura asked as Sally Jo handed her the hair brush. “Ten? Fifteen maybe???”

Amy, taking some pity on me, quickly replied. “I think just five is plenty!”

I wailed, with no constraint, as each of the five whacks hit their mark. The pain was intense---the pain of the ASSault on my already blistered fanny and, perhaps even more so, the pain of the humiliation. Especially receiving it from my nasty little stepsister. Even my weiner, thankfully, wasn't “happy”.

With my spanking over, Laura started to refit my diapers and rhumba panties. “Hold on before you pull them back up!” Amy said to Laura.

Oh God, now what, I thought. Corner time again? Are they going to rub salt in my wounds now??? God only knew.

Amy dashed across the hall to the bathroom. It was directly opposite my room. She didn't close the bathroom door but she opened the medicine cabinet. And we could all see her searching through it.

“What are you looking for?” Laura called, with me still over her knee.

“Never mind, I found it.” She called back and returned to the bedroom.

“Here, have some mercy on him!” And she handed Laura a spraymist bottle of “Bactine”.

“I'll gladly spank his bare bum with a hair brush, but I'm not gonna actually TOUCH it!!!” She exclaimed.

“You don't need to. Just spray it on!” Amy said. “You can show a little kindness!”

“Do I gotta?” Laura whined.

“Well no, you're in charge. But you know it's the right thing to do.” Amy said.

“Oh geez!!!” Laura said, as she began to spray my red hot fanny.

And it really did help to extinguish the fire on my very painful butt. And as Laura sprayed more, Amy looked around the room. She easily found what she was looking for and said. “That's what we need.” And she held out a tube of diaper rash ointment to Laura.

Laura recoiled from it. “No way!!!”

“Okay.” Laura said. “Slide out from under him.”

Laura slid out from under me and Amy took her place and began gently rubbing the ointment all over my battered behind. The ointment felt wonderful. And Amy's soothing hands, even better! Despite my sore bottom and the extremely humiliating circumstances, I found this quite pleasurable. And so did my weiner! And I hoped Amy didn't feel its “pleasure” in her lap through my dress and petticoats.

When she was done with the ointment, she stood me up and pulled my diapers and rhumba panties back in place, taking care to keep the front of my dress and petties down so Laura wouldn't see my “manhood”.

“Okay, Stephie's all yours now.” She said to Laura.

“Goodie!” She cried. “Now down on your hands and knees baby sissyboy!”

I cried in shameful misery as I crawled into the hall and down the stairs. The girls followed, laughing uproariously at the spectacle. “His pretty behind in all those petticoats looks like some kind of giant white flower!” I heard Sally Jo say. And they all roared with laughter even more.

As I reached the living room, I wondered what embarrassing horrors were coming next.

The girls microwaved some popcorn and sat on the couch with cans of diet soda and watched TV. I was, basically, just relegated to crawling around on the floor su-king on my pacifier. But that was okay with me. I was glad to be pretty much left alone and have time to recover from my spankings. And for my bum to cool off. The Bactine and ointment helped that a lot.

When Amy finished her soda, she said. “I'll bet Stephie's thirsty. We should get her something to drink!”

“Babies don't drink soda Amy, but I think I saw some juice in the fridge.” Sally Jo replied.

I looked up at them on the couch with wide-eyed anticipation. I was indeed very thirsty.

As Amy walked to the kitchen, I saw Sally Jo whispering something in Laura's ear.

“Yeah, I think so.” Laura said to her. “In a box in the basement. I'll show you.” And they headed for the cellar.

A few minutes later, I was on the couch with my head in Laura's lap and a baby bib tied around my neck, su-king on the nipple of a baby bottle filled with juice. And “mother” Laura was fawning all over me like any mother would her dear little baby. She cooed at me. “Does my pwecious widdle girl wike her ba-ba of juice?” Well at least, this was an improvement from earlier in the evening when I was in her lap and she was holding a hair brush instead of a baby bottle.

As Amy looked on, she commented. “I just can't believe a boy would let all this be done to him.”

Sally Jo grinned and giggled. “You don't even know the half of it Amy. And besides, I think he actually likes it!” And I felt so ashamed.

With my bottle done, it was back to the floor for me. I crawled for only a second or two before I met Sally Jo's feet. “C'mon, stand up.” She said, as she bent to help me up like an infant. Then she reached her hand under my dress and petties and into my rhumba panties to feel my diapers.

“She's still dry. And I don't smell poopie diapers.” She announced, as she directed me back down to the floor on my hand and knees.

“Little babies are supposed to wet and mess their diapers!” Laura complained. And she got up and walked to the center of the living room. “Crawl over here, my pwecious widdle baby girl.” She ordered.

And I crawled to her and looked up, su-king away on my pacifier.

“You stay right there until you wet and make poopies in your diapers!”

In another flood of tears, I looked pleadingly over to Amy and Sally Jo. “Do as mommy says!” Sally Jo said with a grin.

I hadn't pooped in almost twenty four hours and my bladder was full from juice. In truth, I did have a need to use my diapers. But I fought with mother nature, so not wanting to humiliate myself in this way in front of the girls. Especially in front of Amy.

The girls returned to the couch for more TV. But really just to watch me do my humiliating duty. They laughed as I squirmed and fidgeted and wiggled about on my hands and knees trying to keep from wetting and pooping myself.

“It's okay, my pwecious widdle baby!” Laura coaxed. “Let it all out. That's what your didees are for.” And they all laughed.

Before too long, I got to the point where I just couldn't hold it any longer and I stopped my wiggling and squirming. And I lowered my head toward the floor and closed my eyes. And I heard Sally Jo say. “I think she's ready now!”

Sadly, I was. I let go of the floodgates and wet myself. And that was soon followed by a huge, stinky BM in the seat of my diapers. When I was done, I collapsed on the floor in exhaustion and humiliation.

I heard the girls cheering and clapping. But the cheering and clapping was soon replaced with moaning and groaning, as the smell of my diapers reached their noses. Sally Jo got up and pinched her nose and reached behind me and pushed against the seat of my rhumba panties. “Wow!” She exclaimed. “Fully loaded!” And that brought more laughter. “Well, we can't have Baby Stephie stinking up the place. Crawl upstairs and change yourself sissyboy.” Sally Jo ordered.

“No!!!” Cried Laura. “I think he should sit in his mess for awhile. My mother made me sit in wet, poopy diapers for over an hour!”

I looked up to Sally Jo for mercy, but of course, found none. “Well, you're Baby Stephie's mommy and you're in charge of her!” Sally Jo said.

“Goodie!” Laura called out.

It was too cold for me to sit on the deck in the playpen so the girls brought it in and placed it against a wall in the living room, underneath a window. They opened the window halfway.

I did so. And Laura headed upstairs to her bedroom and quickly returned holding one of her dolls. She pinched her nose as she handed it to me. “Here you go Baby Stephie. Hug your dolly!”

I sat there in front of the girls in my wet, poopy stinky diapers and cried and hugged my dolly for over an hour. Around ten o'clock, Sally Jo said. “Okay Laura, bedtime!”

“Aw, do I gotta? It's only ten and it's Saturday night!”

“Yeah, you gotta! Your mom said ten o'clock.” She replied.

“What about sissyboy? Is he goin' to bed too?” Laura asked.

“Definitely! It still stinks in here. But he's gotta get cleaned up. So hurry upstairs and brush your teeth and use the potty and hit the sack so Stephie can use the bathroom to get cleaned up.” She said. “I'll tuck you in and say good night when you're ready.”

It was going on eleven o'clock by the time I stepped out of my bath, glad to be squeaky clean. I dried myself and wrapped the towel around me and headed across the hall for my bedroom. I looked over at Laura's door and didn't see any light from underneath it. She was asleep.

I stepped into my room and was surprised to see Amy and Sally Jo standing in front of my bed. “I gotta diaper myself.” I said.

“We know.” Sally Jo said. “But we're gonna do it for you Stephie.”

“But I can do it myself! I always do!” I protested.

“We know you can.” Sally Jo chuckled. “But we want the pleasure of watching you squirm as two girls your own age put you in diapers!”

They stepped away from the bed and Sally Jo pointed to the three Depends, stacked one atop each other, waiting for me on it. “Take off your towel and lay down on them, bum up.” Sally Jo ordered.

“Please can I do it myself???”

“No arguments sissyboy!” Sally Jo scolded.

I did as she ordered and closed my eyes. And a moment later, I felt the cool spray of Bactine on my fanny again. I looked over my shoulder and saw Amy smiling down at me. And next, I felt her hands again gently rubbing the diaper rash ointment all over my bum. And that was followed by a sprinkling of baby powder. There were “perks” to my awful circumstances.

“Okay sweetie, turn over.” Amy said to me.

And I did. And Amy gasped. “Oh my goodness!!!” She exclaimed at the sight of my “perky” pen-s.

“Like I said before Amy, I think he likes all this girlie, baby stuff.” Sally Jo said with a laugh. And she added. “He's Little Miss Happy Weiner!”

Amy giggled and I turned red.

“Sally Jo, would you mind if I finished up Stephie by myself?” Amy asked, as she wrapped her hand around my “happy weiner” and gave it a little tug.

“Well you little tart! You got a thing for sissyboys!” Sally Jo giggled. “Well be my guest! But be quiet, you don't wanna wake up Laura.”

“We'll be quiet. “ Amy replied. Sally Jo closed the door as she left the bedroom.

Amy looked down at me and smiled again. She bent over me and put her mouth down over my very stiff “member”. I figured it was going to be like Chrissy at camp. But this was better. Unlike Chrissy, Amy truly WAS a girl!

But I was surprised and disappointed really, when after just a moment, she came back up and said nothing as she reached into a pocket of her jeans. I naively watched as she pulled out a small foil packet and carefully opened it. I figured it must be some kind of hand wipe or something.

And I was surprised yet again, when she took a “balloon like” thing from the packet and started to roll it down over my very stiff weiner.

And she sensed my naivety and paused. “Oh Stephie, you're just sooo precious!” She gushed. “This is a rubber. A condom!” And she gently stroked my cheek with her free hand. “And this is your first time, isn't it???”

I just nodded “yes”.

“Well, enjoy it sweetie!” She whispered, as she finished rolling the condom in place. “I know I will!”

Then she stripped down to just her bra and panties. And she was absolutely gorgeous! A real babe! And she straddled me and pulled down the front of her panties and slowly lowered herself onto my raging pen-s. And she pumped herself up and down on it, moaning softly. As my pen-s grew even larger inside her, she moaned even more. Just as I started to come, she cried “Yes! Oh God yes!!!”

A few minutes later, as she laid next to me in bed as exhausted as I was, she whispered. “You did great Stephie, I mean Stephen! Like it was nothing new to you!”

Amy left just after that, leaving me to finish diapering myself and getting ready for bed. Done, I climbed back into bed and turned off the light on my nightstand. And I was totally drained and exhausted. But this time, it was exhaustion from something “wonderful” that had happened to me. The memories of the horrible day and the pain from my sore fanny seemed to fade away.

Just before I drifted off to sleep, I thought about how strange life was. All the twists and turns in life and where they can lead to. I'd become a man tonight, so to speak, dressed as a little baby girl in diapers.

The next day at the breakfast table before church, stepmother was “singing the praises” of the job Sally Jo and Amy had done babysitting. And Laura couldn't agree more. “They were great mom!” She raved. “I know her cousin Amy can't, but could Sally Jo babysit us again?”

“Sure, definitely!” Stepmother answered.

“Goodie!” Laura said grinning at me. “I can't wait!”

I sure could. I'd certainly welcome Amy babysitting but DEFINITELY not Sally Jo! I hoped it would be a long time before dad and stepmother went out again by themselves.

Back in school, I was pretty much ignored by Sally Jo and the other kids. And I was grateful for that. Anonymity was my salvation.

Halloween came and went without a hitch. Stepmother took me and Laura out trick or treating. Laura's costume was simple. She went as a Ninja Warrior. She took Karate lessons and had the outfit. Mine was fairly simple too. I was Dorothy from “The Wizard of Oz”. I wore my blue gingham dress and petticoats and carried a basket with a stuffed dog of Laura's in it as Toto. Red Maryjanes were my “ruby slippers”.

And Thanksgiving was the usual big turkey feast with just the four of us. Though stepmother insisted that I help her in all the preparations and cooking and serving. A mother/daughter bonding and learning thing for me, it seemed. Why she didn't do it with her real daughter was beyond me.

It wasn't a white Christmas, well for me at least. Mine was more of a “pink” Christmas---my presents were mostly frilly “girlie” clothes and outfits and such. But there was one “girlie” gift that I appreciated very much! It was a package of half a dozen lace trimmed panties in an assortment of pastel colors. “I think it's time to ease up on the diapers for you Stephie.” Stepmother had said. “Providing you don't have any accidents, you can wear panties like a big girl instead of diapers!” And I was thrilled! Though she warned, “But you still have to wear and use diapers and plastic pants when we're out in public. You know you can't go into a Mens Room as Stephie and you know I won't let you go into a Ladies Room, since you're not really a girl.”

Well, it was still a vast improvement! Though there was a downside. You see, I quickly learned how difficult it was, in a voluminous dress and petticoats, to sit down on the toilet when I needed to poop. But things seemed to be looking up a bit, as New Year's approached.

But New Year's, 2007 was a different story. Sunday, December 31st, 2006 was “a date that will live in infamy” for me.

Traditionally, we went to my Aunt Sarah's for New Year's Eve. Aunt Sarah was one of my father's two older sisters, his only siblings. She always hosted a large, festive New Year's Eve party for all of dad's side of the family; my grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins and such. She lived twenty five, maybe thirty miles away. New Year's was one of the few times we visited with them each year. And this New Year's would be no different, except for me!

In mid afternoon, stepmother told me and Laura to go upstairs and clean up and get dressed to go to Aunt Sarah's. “I laid out your clothes for the party on your beds girls.” She'd said.

When I walked into my room, I screamed in horror. “No!!! Mommy!!!” She had laid out my frilly, pink satin little girl's party dress. I'd assumed I'd be going to the party as Stephen.

I heard stepmother dash up the stairs. “What's wrong Stephie?” She asked catching her breath. “Did you fall and hurt yourself or something???” She added.

“Mommy!” I cried. “You're not gonna make me go as Stephie??? I thought I'd be going as Stephen!!!”

“Oh, is that all???” She said relieved, but rather crossly. “You scared me. I thought you'd fallen and hurt yourself or something!”

“Mommy, I gotta go as Stephen! I can't pull the Stephie routine with them!!! They'll know right away that I'm Stephen!” I hollered in tears.

“Of course I know that!” Stepmother replied even more angrily. “But you know there's one hard and fast rule that I hold to---you're only allowed to be Stephen in school.”

“But mommy!!!” I cried.

“No buts Stephie! Or you'll get a good spanking and you'll find yourself wearing diapers and plastic pants under your pretty party dress instead of your new panties!” Stepmother shouted. “And besides, a petticoated boy is nothing new to your grandmother and aunts.” She scolded, referring to my father.

“But what about everyone else??? I won't go as Stephie!!!” And I stomped my feet and ran from the bedroom shouting, “I won't! I won't! I won't!!!”

About an hour later, I sat in the van on the way to Aunt Sarah's, moaning and sobbing. At least the diapers under my pink satin party dress and petticoats provided a soft cushion for my very red and sore fanny.

I was the “hit” of the New Year's Eve party. But in two different and not surprising ways. There were the adults like my Grandma Crandall, who, when I curtsied in greeting her, beamed. “Oh Stephanie, you're as pretty as your father was when he was a little girl your age!” And there were my two aunts, and their husbands, my uncles, who all fawned and gushed over pretty little me. I was a bit surprised that my two uncles oogled over me. But then, they always seemed a little wimpy to my way of thinking.

And then there were the kids, my cousins, who were just totally incredulous at the sight of the prissy, frilly sissyboy in a dress and petticoats and diapers and braids and ribbons. They had a “field day” with me. At every opportunity when adults weren't looking, they did all they could do to ridicule and tease and humiliate me. All the usual stuff---lifting the back of my dress and petties up, tugging on my braids, asking me if I needed my diapers changed, making me curtsey to them and so on. And all of this, no surprise, was largely “spear headed” by Laura.

But there was one sympathetic kid, well not so much a kid---my eighteen year old cousin Abby. She came over to me at one point, holding the hand of a boy who looked to be the same age as her. “Hi Stephen, I'm sorry that you've been petticoated.” She said with genuine empathy, as her friend looked on in utter amazement at me. “This is my boyfriend, Ben Dobson. Ben, this is my cousin Stephen Crandall. He's really thirteen.”

I hung my head in shame and curtsied saying only “hello”. And he laughed and said. “Geez! How can you let this be done to you???”

“Oh leave him alone Ben!” Abby said.

Ben obeyed and changed the subject. “So where are you from Stephen--ah--I mean Stephanie? Where do you go to school?” He asked.

Stupidly, I answered him. And to my horror, he replied. “Wow, small world. I live there too! I got a thirteen year old brother, Tim Dobson, who goes to your school. You must know him!”

In fear, I wet my diapers slightly. I didn't actually know his brother Tim, but I did know who he was. I also knew that he was a bit of a troublemaker in school. But I lied and said. “No, I don't recognize the name.”

I quickly excused myself and dashed off, petticoats flying, to try to be alone. I cried knowing that this could be a potential major breach in security for me.

Mercifully, midnight finally came, with all its normal celebration and reverie. I wasn't in much of a mood for celebrating though. Now, the New Year didn't look very promising in any way for me. At 12:45AM, we headed home. As we drove, I made a New Year's resolution to talk to my father, and him only, about why I had to be “Stephie”.

New Year's morning, I immediately made good on my resolution to talk to dad. Dressed for the day with panties instead of diapers underneath, I tied the ribbons in my braids and headed downstairs. I found dad seated at the kitchen table, drinking his coffee and reading the morning newspaper.

“Dad?” I asked, as I went to the fridge and poured myself a glass of orange juice. “Can we talk? Just you and me? Alone!”

“Sure Stephie! We're alone.” He replied. “Laura and your stepmother just left to do some after Christmas bargain shopping. What's up sweetie?”

“Stephie! Sweetie!! Sweetheart!!! That's the problem!” I exclaimed. “Why do I have to be an eight year old little girl? Why do I have to be Stephie and sweetie and sweetheart???” And I sipped my juice and added. “And when can I go back to being Stephen all the time???”

Dad raised his eyebrows and took a breath. “Well Steph, the answer's not a simple one. But if you listen carefully with an open mind, I'll explain.”

“Okay.” I said.

“Traditionally, at your age, all male Crandalls have been petticoated like you for a period of time. You know I was! And so was your late grandfather. Who knows, probably even your great grandfather!” And he paused to sip his coffee.

“But why???” I asked.

“Well, it's involved. But hear me out Stephie.”

“Please, for this, call me Stephen!” I insisted.

“Sure Stephen, I understand.” He said kindly, putting his cup down. “Spending time as a girl serves two purposes. First, it gives you a sense, a feeling, an understanding of how the other half lives. Walking in their shoes, literally!” He said with a little laugh. “And that will help you to be a better mate and lover and husband and father in the future. It definitely helped me!”

“Yeah but...”

“Just listen Stephie, I mean Stephen.” Correcting himself. “Secondly, handling the embarrassment of being a boy in girl's clothes...”

“You don't know the half of it!” I cried.

“Let me finish please.” And he continued. “Being a boy in girl's clothes toughens you. It strengthens you! A little like the old Johnny Cash song--A BOY NAMED SUE.”

The Johnny Cash “thing” was lost on me, but I didn't pursue it and kept quiet.

“You'll be a stronger and better man down the road because of this Stephen!” Dad stressed.

“But why a prissy LITTLE girl? And in diapers too???” I pleaded.

“Well to be honest, that stems from your time at camp last summer. And your stepmother wanted to carry it on here at home.” And he took a breath. “And besides, she's given you a bit of a reprieve from diapers Stephen. You have panties now!”

“Well what about my boy cousins? Do they get the same treatment as me?” I asked, as a tear ran down my cheek.

“No, your only boy cousins aren't Crandalls. They're from your late mother's side of the family.” He answered.

“Lucky them!” I grumbled. Dad's whole explanation wasn't finding any agreement with me. I'd never do this to my son, I thought. “Well when can I go back to being Stephen again? And not just in school, but ALL the time?”

“Generally, Crandall boys have been petticoated for a year or so.” Dad replied. “So this Fall, after summer vacation, you'll be Stephen full time again.”

“Oh hell!!!” I shouted. “That means eight or nine more months of this sissy crap!” And I stormed out of the kitchen in tears.

The first week back to school, after the Christmas break, was an uneventful one. Sally Jo continued to pay me little mind. I did see, a few times in passing through the halls, Tim Dobson, the brother of my cousin Abby's boyfriend. But he didn't acknowledge me in any way. We weren't acquaintances and I hoped to keep it that way.

On Wednesday of the next week, I was passing through the hall on my way to lunch. Tim Dobson was standing by the lockers talking to a couple of his buddies. As I passed by, Tim looked over to me, straight in the eyes. And a couple of steps later, I looked back over my shoulder and saw Tim whispering something in the ear of one of his friends, who I thought I heard say “No way!!!”

And on Friday, as I carried my tray from the lunch line in search of a table, I heard giggling nearby me. I looked around and saw Tim sitting among a group of girls and boys who were all looking at me and smiling and grinning.

I didn't sleep well that weekend.

The next Monday, I heard a lot of giggling and laughter almost wherever it seemed I went. And lots of smiles and grins and whispers and fingers pointing at me, as I made my way around school.

On Tuesday, a number of kids, both boys and girls, blew kisses at me as I passed them in class or the hallways.

On Wednesday, I trudged into school, bleary eyed and very overtired. I'd gotten little sleep over the past several nights. And at lunch, the “you know what” really hit the fan! As I picked away at my chicken br.east with little appetite, I heard a shout from across the cafeteria. “Hey Stephen, or maybe you prefer STEPHANIE! Why don't you wear one of your pretty dresses to school for us tomorrow???”

The cafeteria exploded with laughter. And I wished I would explode, into a million pieces.

It was no surprise to me that the shout came from Tim Dobson. And the shout was soon followed by another, from a girl sitting next to him. “Want me to braid your hair for you Stephie and tie pretty ribbons in them???”

And the cafeteria exploded in even more laughter.

The final blow came when someone called out. “Hey Stephen, need a diaper change???”

I got up and covered my face to hide my tears and embarrassment and ran as fast as I could. And I truly didn't stop running until I pushed my way through the front door of my house in a frenzy.

“What on Earth!!!” My stepmother cried, as she turned off the vacuum cleaner in the living room. “What's wrong??? And why are you home so early?”

Before my stepmother could get a word out, I ran past her and stormed upstairs to my bedroom and slammed the door shut behind me. I laid on my bed, crying hysterically. About five minutes later, I heard a knock on my door. “Stephie honey, can I come in?” Stepmother called.

“Okay Stephen. Stay dressed as you are. Just please come down and talk to me when you're ready.” And she left me alone.

I remained in my room sobbing until well past the dinner hour, the horror of the day replaying over and over in my mind. Around 6:30, I ventured out and down the stairs. I was dying of thirst. I figured I must be dehydrated from all the tears I'd shed.

As I walked into the kitchen for a soda from the fridge, stepmother turned from the sink full of dirty dishes she was washing and dad looked up from the newspaper spread open on the table.

Dad spoke first. “You missed dinner Stephie.”

“Call him Stephen.” Stepmother said, looking toward dad.

“Are you hungry Stephen?” Dad asked, correcting himself.

“No.” I pouted. “Just want a soda.”

“Are you ready to tell us what happened at school today Stephen?” Dad asked.

“No! It's too awful! And it's all her fault!” I cried, as I pointed at stepmother.

It took a minute or so to gather up the strength to explain, but they waited patiently.

In tears, I finally began. “I've been outted! And it's all her fault!” I said looking at stepmother.

“What do you mean by OUTTED Stephen? And how's it your stepmother's fault?” Dad asked.

“Everybody at school knows about my pathetic, secret until now, sissy life as Stephie!!!” I grumbled and looked at stepmother. “And it's all because of her!”

They both gasped in genuine horror. Dumbstruck, they kept silent and I continued on. “You made me, stepmother, go to the New Year's Eve party at Aunt Sarah's house as Stephie. You insisted on it. It was your rule. And not to be broken!”

Stepmother started to tear up as I went on. “Well when cousin Abby introduced me to her boyfriend, Ben Dobson, he found out where I live and go to school. Turns out, he and his family live here in town and his younger brother, Tim, goes to my school!”

“Oh dear!” Exclaimed stepmother, wiping her tears with a tissue.

And I took a deep breath and a sip of soda and grumbled on. “For the past week, everyone at school has been teasing me and looking at me and laughing and saying awful things about me being Stephanie.!” And I buried my red, tear stained face into my hands. “Abby's boyfriend told his younger brother Tim about me. And now Tim is spreading the word all around school! Everybody knows I'm a sissyboy in dresses and diapers and braids and ribbons when I'm not in school!”

“What kind of things are they saying?” Dad asked.

I explained the gruesome details to them, especially what happened in the cafeteria that afternoon. And even dad had a tear in his eye.

I concluded saying, “I doomed!!! I can't, and I won't, ever show my face in that school again! Or for that matter, in the neighborhood!”

“I'm so very sorry Stephen!!!” Stepmother cried. “We'll take care of it! We'll make it right!” She promised, as she looked toward dad.

“Too late for that!” I growled. “I'm dead meat!”

Dad and stepmother allowed me to stay home from school on Thursday and Friday. And no “petticoating” rules were enforced thankfully.

On Friday morning, I overheard a small bit of stepmother talking on the phone with Dr. Lytle, the principal of my school. “I'm afraid Stephen's been a bit under the weather Dr. Lytle.” That was the only part of their conversation that I heard. Whatever else they talked about, I don't know.

I laid low, greatly depressed, all of Thursday through Sunday. I didn't dare to venture outside of the safety of the house. At least though, I was Stephen and not Stephie. There were times however, when I looked out the window and saw kids from school and the neighborhood walking by and stopping and staring at the house. Certainly curiousity seekers trying to catch a glimpse of sissyboy Stephie.

I spent the better part of an hour Sunday night begging and pleading, almost on my knees, with dad and stepmother to not make me go back to school on Monday. But it was all to no avail. They said I had to go back sooner or later, so Monday was it.

“I talked to your principal, Dr. Lytle, on Friday Stephen about what's been happening to you at school.” She told me to try to console. “He assured me that he'd make every effort to stop it.”

But what she didn't tell me was that she hadn't told him the truth about me. She told him, to save face and probably with child abuse charges in the back of her mind, that I was Stephie by my own choosing.

Dad's best effort in the consolation department was, “I'll drive you to school tomorrow morning Stephen on my way to work. And don't worry, it'll all blow over before long!” God, there was no way of that happening, I thought.

The next five days were total, unmitigated torture for me. Dr. Lytle had little effect in controlling the situation. I was constantly bombarded with ridicule and teasing and taunting.

“Why aren't you wearing a pretty dress and petticoats sweetie?” and “What's the matter sissyboy, need a diaper change?” and “How about pigtails and ribbons tomorrow Stephie?” and “Wrong door Stephen, the girls lavatory's over there!” and “Why so glum Stephen? Is it that time of the month for you?” and “Wanna borrow my lipstick Stephen?” And tons more sissy crap like that.

And a few times, I even found a small bouquet of flowers waiting for me on the floor in front of my locker. Worse still, a box of tampons one time. And at lunch, the kids would blow kisses at me and give me “wolf whistles” as they teased me.

It got so bad that at one point, Sally Jo Reynolds approached me and she had a genuinely sympathetic look on her face. “I didn't say anything Stephen. Honest! I didn't let your secret out.” She said.

“I know.” Was all I replied.

At home, the “Stephie rule” continued to be lifted. I ate and slept very little each night. I did little homework. Didn't say much. Didn't even care to watch TV. I just stayed in my room each night and sulked. I was a basket case!

When the weekend finally came, I carried on in the same way, despite my father and stepmother's best efforts to cheer me up and bolster my spirits. Even Laura made an effort to be kind to me.

On Sunday night, I again pleaded, even on my knees this time, to not be sent back to school. “It's killing me!” I cried.

But as before, it was to no avail. The only solution stepmother again had to offer was. “I'll call Dr. Lytle first thing tomorrow morning.”

“That won't do any good!” I cried.

And of course, it didn't! Monday was pure hell again! And it was later that evening, as I sulked in my room, that I began to devise a very daring, drastic, desperate, demeaning, and probably dumb plan to get out of going to school.

I would need to implement my plan on Thursday morning, when I knew stepmother would be out of the house. She always played Bridge with a bunch of her lady friends on Thursday mornings. And I knew that last week's game was played at our house, so this Thursday's game would be somewhere else. No one would be home.

Tuesday and Wednesday was a continuation of all the hellish humiliation. No surprise there. Things weren't blowing over at all. Just the opposite, things seemed to be picking up steam. All the more reason, I thought, to put my drastic and desperate plan into effect. Wednesday evening, alone in my room, I finalized the details of my bold plan in my mind.

On Thursday morning, I got up and got dressed like normal for school and headed out. But instead of walking to school, I went to a nearby Mc Donald's for a hot chocolate and Egg McMuffin. I wasn't really hungry, I was just buying time for stepmother to get out of the house.

It was 9:30 when I returned back home. Stepmother's van wasn't in the driveway. I unlocked the front door, hung up my coat, and headed straight upstairs to my bedroom.

I stripped to my birthday suit and diapered myself in three Depends and covered them with the frilliest, pink and white lace trimmed diaper rhumba panties I owned. A training bra was next, followed by pink and white lace trimmed anklets. I inspected my arms and legs. They were still baby smooth and hairless from the depilatory stepmother had used on them just before the New Year's Eve party. Two of my poufiest and fullest petticoats were next, followed by the ultimate in frilly, little girl finery; my pink satin party dress.

With my pink, patent leather Maryjanes on my feet, I went to the mirror to do my braids. I meticulously fussed with them, wanting them to be perfect. My braids were long, probably a good four to five inches longer than when I had first worn braids at camp. I decided that braid loops would be even more outrageously “sissy” and “girlie”. With pink barrettes and large pink bows tied in my braid loops, I was ready for some light makeup and pink lipstick. That done, the necklace and earrings stepmother had given me for my birthday were next. Then I spritzed perfume behind my ears and on my wrists and sat on my bed to painted my fingernails in candy pink nail polish.

I stood in front of the full length mirror and examined myself head to toe and front and back. With an adjustment to my sash bow in the back, I said out loud. “Perfect!”

I looked at the clock on my nightstand. 10:45, time to be on my way I thought. I went to the closet and got my little girl's Macintosh coat and put it on. It reached to just below the hem of my dress and petticoats. I grabbed the litte pink purse that went with my party dress and went downstairs to the front door and stepped outside, locking the door behind me. The weather was pretty mild for a winter's day. The high thirties, low forties maybe. But no snow or rain. My bare legs were a little chilly. Tights might have been appropriate , I thought. But the walk ahead of me wasn't a real long one.

I headed down the sidewalk to put my plan in gear. As I walked along, I thought. This is crazy! Absolutely crazy! But, unfortunately, absolutely necessary! A last resort.

I knew that what I was about to do would be extremely humiliating and embarrassing for me. But then, sissy humiliation and embarrassment was nothing new to me certainly. And I was a lot more “thick skinned” now than when my petticoating first began last summer at camp.

I gulped and took a very breath as I reached the end of my walk.

“I can do this. I got nothin' to lose and a lot to gain.” I said out loud to myself, as I slipped into school through the custodial area in the back. I wanted to avoid the front and the main office, at least for awhile.

The hallways were quiet and vacant. Classes were going on and the first lunch period, which was mine, was in session. My locker wasn't far and I reached it and hung up my Macintosh coat without encountering a soul.

And I sashayed my way to the cafeteria. The din of the place came to a screaching halt when I pranced inside. The only sounds heard were gasps of utter disbelief. I looked around and found an empty table and headed for it. And the silence was almost surreal.

As I smoothed my dress and petticoats behind me and sat down in a big “pouf”, the silence ended. I don't need to describe all the taunting and teasing. But it was even more intense than before in school. Let's just say it was, not unexpectedly, extreme!!! But I just sat there and took it and smiled and even blew kisses at the jeering crowd.

And after a minute or so of this, I grit my teeth and stood up and said softly to myself, “I got nothin' to lose and a lot to gain.” And I stepped up onto my chair, with my back to the crowd, and I bent over and flipped the back of my dress and petticoats up and wiggled my frilly fanny at them. And, though it was totally by accident and unplanned, I wet my diapers.

Seconds later, I felt the hands of two teachers on me pulling me down from the chair. And a couple of minutes later, I found myself sitting in Dr. Lytle's office in wet diapers.

“What on earth were you thinking Stephen???” He shouted at me. “I can't even begin to fathom why you would do such an embarrassing thing to yourself! I mean, I know you like dressing up and all, but this is outrageous!!!”

“I just felt like it!” I replied in a cocky manner, as I played with one of my braid loops. And it was then that I realized that stepmother must have lied to him about me being “Stephie”. He thought I wanted to be Stephie. “My parents make me dress like this!” I shouted.

“Yeah, I'm sure Stephen.” He replied, in obvious disbelief and disgust. “Well, I'm going to call your parents to come get you. And I'm going to have to suspend you from school for two weeks for all the commotion you've caused!”

“Suspend!!!” I cried. The goal of my plan was to be totally booted out. “You're not gonna expel me???”

“No Stephen, that's not necessary.” He said, thinking he was consoling me. “Besides, that would require a formal hearing. Now wait outside in the main office until someone comes to get you.”

I got up and headed for the door. And Dr. Lytle, noticing a puddle in the seat of my chair, called “My God Stephen, you wet yourself!”

I turned and saw the puddle. And Dr. Lytle exclaimed. “You're the little girl I met in Walgreens last Fall with your mother!”

I just grinned and gave him a deep curtsey.

As I waited to be picked up, I was angry that I was only suspended for two weeks and not expelled for the rest of the year. That had been my goal. But at least, I'd have a two week reprieve from the humiliations of school. Maybe I could use the time to figure out some other way of getting kicked out totally, I thought.

But the whole episode became more worthwhile when stepmother came to pick me up. The look of horror and absolute embarrassment on her face, over what I'd done, was priceless!!! She squirmed in humiliation and couldn't bear to look into the faces of the secretaries and Dr. Lytle. She just kept her red face buried in her handkerchief and cried.

“Turn about is fair play.” I muttered to myself as we left school. And stepmother was in such a state of shock that she didn't say a single word to me as we drove home. She just cried in shame.

In the living room at home, stepmother threw her purse on the couch in anger and stuck her face in mine and shouted. “Get out of my sight!!! Go to your room! And I don't want to see your face down here until I say so!”

I spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening alone in my room. Even supper, in the form of a dinner tray, was left outside my door. Around ten o'clock, came a knock on my door followed by dad's head peaking inside. “Can I come in Stephen?”

“I suppose.” I replied.

He stood in front of me as I sat up on my bed. “What in the hell were you thinking Stephen? What possessed you to do such an incredibly embarrassing and stupid thing?”

I took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes and said simply. “I had to. It was the only way.” And I sighed and said again. “I had to dad!”

He just stood there silently for what seemed like an eternity, deep in thought, pondering what I had just said. And he finally replied. “Well, your stepmother is still way too upset over what you did to talk to you about it.” And he walked to the door and turned back. “I'm going to stay home from work tomorrow so your stepmother and I can discuss the situation in depth and figure out what measures need to be taken with you. When we've done that, we'll tell you.”

And the matter was left at that for the night.

The next morning, I got up and dressed normally, and in the truest sense of the word, as “Stephen”.

“Stephen!” I heard dad call from the bottom of the stairs. “Come down and have your breakfast!”

Laura was in school by now, so just the three of us sat at the kitchen table, in dead silence, eating the scrambled eggs stepmother had made. And her face was quite red and swollen from crying. When I finished my eggs, dad said. “Go back to your room Stephen. Your stepmother and I need to talk about yesterday by ourselves.”

I got up and put my plate and things in the sink. And they did the same. I headed upstairs for my room and they headed for the living room to talk.

I opened my bedroom door but didn't go in. I waited a moment and then closed it, fairly loudly, so that the sound might be heard. I tiptoed to the top of the steps and quietly sat down to listen to their conversation.

“I'm just beside myself Steve!” Stepmother exclaimed. “I can't, for the life of me, even begin to imagine why he would do such a thing!!!”

“Can't you Joan???” Dad asked.

“No I can't!” Stepmother cried. “Why? Did he tell you why he did it?”

“Not in so many words. He didn't need to Joan! What he did was an act of total desperation on his part!” And I smiled. I'd had the feeling that dad had understood me last night. “I'm sure Stephen did it so he'd be suspended or even expelled from school and get out of the misery and shame he faces there each day.”

“Yeah, but what he did was so outrageous, so awful!” Stepmother countered.

“Hell Joan, instead of going to school as a little girl armed with a purse, he could have gone to school as himself armed with something a lot worse!”

“Well now you're exaggerating Steve!”

“Yeah, but still, I'm right about why he did it!” And dad paused a moment. “And for his sake, and our's too, we can't send him back there. We've got to find another school for him and I think I might have a solution.”

“Oh thank God!” I sighed in relief, not realizing that I'd said it out loud.

“Stephen!” Dad shouted. “You're listening up there, aren't you?”

“Yes dad.” I called. “I'm sorry!”

“Well get back in your room and stay there! Your stepmother and I will talk with you when we're good and ready!” He yelled.

I laid on my bed feeling hopeful for the first time in a long, long time. My plan to get out of my school for good had actually succeeded, though in a different way than I had figured it would.

I heard nothing regarding the status of the future and schooling for me for the rest of Friday. The only thing I heard was dad talking a lot on the phone. And mostly to, it sounded, his mother; my Grandma Crandall.

On Saturday morning, I was admonished by stepmother to return to being Stephie again. My reprieve from dresses and diapers and braids and ribbons had been short lived.

At dinner Saturday evening, dad said. “After supper Stephie, your stepmother and I will talk to you about the plans we've made for your schooling for the remainder of the school year.”

“I hope he'll be wearing pretty dresses to school!” Laura chuckled.

I just made a face at her and dad scolded. “Mind your own business Laura!”

With dinner done, I sat down in a “pouf” on the couch in the living room. Dad and stepmother sat in chairs across from me. Laura was told to play in her bedroom.

Dad began. “I've made arrangements, with your Grandma Crandall, for you to live with her and go to school for the rest of the school year in Johnsonville.”

Grandma Crandall lived alone, in the house that dad had grown up in, in Johnsonville which was upstate, a little less than two hours away. Camp Sissy Curls was actually fairly nearby Johnsonville, just two exits before it on the interstate.

“You know your Grandma Crandall,” Dad continued, “is a long time, very active parishioner at Sacred Heart Catholic Church and the sisters there run a K-8 school called Sacred Heart Academy. She's made arrangements with Sister Veronica, the principal, for you to finish eighth grade there.”

“But what about next Fall when I go into high school?” I interrupted.

“Don't worry about that now Stephie. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Yeah but...”

“No buts, just listen Stephie.” Dad cut me off. “You'll get a fresh start there. No one in town or in the school will know about you---Stephanie or Stephen! That'll be great for you. A clean slate!”

“But what about...”

“Your father told you to just listen Stephie!” Stepmother interjected crossly.

Dad continued. “Now you should understand Stephie that your petticoating will continue at Grandma's. That doesn't end until next Fall.”

I groaned, though not surprised, as dad went on. “Your grandma's a big proponent of petticoating boys. I know that from my own experience, of course.”

“Yeah, but will I get to be Stephen in school?” I very quickly stuck in.

“Well, and you're probably not going to like the sound of this, but no! You'll be Stephanie one hundred percent of the time.”

“But dad, why???” I cried.

“Two reasons Stephie.” Dad explained, as I started to sob. “First, Sacred Heart Academy is strictly a girls' Catholic school. No boys! And secondly, it's in your best interests for you to be Stephanie all the time in Johnsonville. No ambiguity about Stephanie and Stephen.”

“Aw, c'mon!” I pleaded.

“No Stephie.” Dad continued. “This way, there will be no one wondering if Stephanie and Stephen might be one in the same. You'll have only one identity to keep up! No Stephanie/Stephen problems like here at home.”

“But will I have to wear dia...”

Dad, again, quickly cut me off by looking at stepmother. “You know Joan, Sister Veronica was my teacher, a novice, when I was a girl like him at Sacred Heart. And all these years later, she's still there and now she's the principal!”

Then dad directed his attention back to me. “Sister Veronica, the principal, will be absolutely the only one who knows you're Stephen. Not even the teachers will know.” And he paused. “Well, except for your grandma, of course!”

“It's a sound plan Stephie.” Stepmother spoke up. “And it's the only solution. You should be grateful to your father and grandmother!”

I didn't feel particularly grateful, but I guessed it was better than school here at home.

“We'll pack up all your things tomorrow and on Monday, I'll take you to Grandma Crandall's.” Stepmother said, and added. “And on Wednesday, you'll start classes ar Sacred Heart.”

Sunday morning, not surprisingly, we didn't go to church. Dad and stepmother especially, would be just as embarrassed there as I'd be showing up as either Stephie or Stephen. Most of the congregation would certainly know by now about Stephen being Stephanie.

Instead, I spent the morning and most of the afternoon with stepmother packing all my clothes for Grandma's. Well, all my clothes except for the few boy's clothes I had.

Monday morning, stepmother insisted on supervising me getting dressed for Grandma's. “Your grandmother will expect you to be very prim and proper and prissy Stephie.” She said.

I complained when stepmother set out three Depends and one of the gaudiest pairs of sissy rhumba panties I owned for me to put on. “Do I gotta?” I begged.

“You know Stephie always wears diapers!” She replied.

“Will I have to at Grandma's?” I asked.

“I don't know, that's up to her!”

With me decked out in a very prim and proper and prissy outfit, stepmother said. “I'll do your braid loops and ribbons Steph. Want them to be perfect!”

“Can't I have something more my age like a ponytail or something?” I asked.

“Nope! You're going like normal for Stephie.” Stepmother said. “Maybe your grandmother will let you have a different hair style. Maybe even clothes more appropriate for a thirteen year old girl. But that's up to her!”

Just after lunch at 12:30, stepmother and I packed my bags into the van and headed for the interstate. We didn't talk much the whole trip. That was fine with me. I could tell stepmother was still very angry over the humiliation I'd caused her by what I did at school. And that was fine with me too. Very fine!

A little over an hour into the ride, I cringed a bit as we passed the exit that led to Camp Sissy Curls. And I shuddered even more when I saw the Mall near the exit that had been the source of much embarrassment for me last summer. Johnsonville's exit would be coming up before too long.

As stepmother paid the toll at the exit for Johnsonville, I actually gave a little sigh of relief. A new, fresh start for me I thought, despite having to be “Stephie” 24/7 now.

“Hi!!! We're here!!!” Stepmother chimed, as she gave a little knock on Grandma's door and pushed it open for us to enter.

Stepmother and Grandmother exchanged hugs and then Grandmother looked at me and fondled my braid loops. “So much like your father when he was a girl your age!” She said, just as she had said at the New Year's Eve party.

“Oh, we're going to have so much fun together Stephie!!!” She gushed, as she adjusted my dress over my petticoats. “So much fun!” She repeated, with a twinkle in her eye.

And I felt a TINKLE in my diapers. The long ride and the bottle of water during the trip were taking its toll on me.

Stepmother stayed only long enough for a brief chat and a cup of tea with Grandmother and she was off for back home. And with more than a tinkle in my diapers by now, Grandmother led me upstairs, helping to carry my bags to the bedroom that would be mine.

As she opened the door, she exclaimed. “This was your father's bedroom when he was Stephie, like you!”

I gasped and groaned in shock and wet myself even more when we entered the room. It was the frilliest and sissiest girl's bedroom imaginable. The decor was all pink and white ruffles and lace and such. Even a heavily, pink ruffled canopy bed. Prettily dressed dolls were everywhere. It reeked of “girlishness”!

Sensing my dismay, Grandma said. “Aw, don't be such a sourpuss Stephie. It's a perfect room for a sweet young girl like you!” And she glanced down at my legs and saw what I was starting to feel. Pee was beginning to trickle down them.

“I think you've had a little accident honey!” She said sweetly. “Let me help you off with your pretty dress and petticoats and things before they get wet.” And she added. “Good thing you're in diapers!”

I sobbed as Grandma helped me down to just my diapers and rhumba panties.

“I can take it from here Grandma.” I sniffled.

“I know you can sweetheart. And it's okay. Your dad had problems like that too!” She soothed and she pointed to the door of the adjoining bathroom to my new bedroom.

“Why don't you go in and take a nice bath and freshen up?” She said. “I'll fish out fresh diapers and rhumba panties from your bags and leave them on your bed for you.”

She walked over to my bags on the floor and turned back around. “But you can wear your same pretty outfit honeybunch. It's fine. Nothing's wet!” And she gave me a broad, loving smile. “There's bubble bath and a shower cap in there to protect your pretty braids.”

I headed for the bathroom and heard her say over my shoulder. “We're going to have such fun Stephie! Come back downstairs when you're done sweetheart.”

“Yes Grandmother.” I called back, trying not to wonder too hard about what her idea of fun might be.

Author's note: Please indulge my bragging, but with Barry Bonds' and A-Rod's milestone homers of yesterday fresh in my mind, I cannot resist. It just dawned on me that the next installment of my “Stephie” and “Camp Sissy Curls” saga will be the 100th part for me in the series. I really don't mean it as a boast. It just strikes me as a silly coincidence. You'll understand if you follow baseball like me, especially the Yankees! Hey, sissyboys can like baseball too!!! Anyone else out there like it??? There is more to life than pretty dresses and petticoats and diapers.

Before too long, I made my way back downstairs, all clean and freshened up. Grandma told me to sit on the sofa in the living room so we could talk. “We need to discuss and go over some ground rules for your stay with me Stephie.” She said kindly.

“Thank you Grandmother.” I replied with a sweet smile, as I played with one of my braid loops. I wanted to get off on the right foot with her.

She smiled back. “We need to talk about your life as Stephie here at home and out in public and, of course, at school.”

“Yes Grandmother.” I said, pressing the front of my dress and petties down as I rested my hands on my knees. And I girlishly tilted my legs at an angle for added effect.

Grandma smiled even more! “Let's talk about school first. Wednesday will be your first day at Sacred Heart Academy. School uniforms are mandatory for all the girls. Tomorrow, I'll take you to Mc Bride's Clothing. It's a children's clothing store that carries all the school uniforms for the local parochial and private schools. I got your dad's school uniform there when he went to Sacred Heart. It's in a Mall not far from here.”

The thought of me wearing a Catholic schoolgirl's uniform wasn't a pleasant one, but it wasn't horrible either. I'd certainly been decked out in worse! I just hoped it wasn't the “Mall from Hell” near Camp Sissy Curls.

“The principal, Sister Veronica, will require you to wear diapers under your school uniform at all times in school.”

“Aw Grandma!” I groaned.

“You may look like a girl and act like a girl Stephie, but of course, you're really not! And boys have no business being in a girl's lavatory! And besides, wearing diapers under your clothing is nothing new to you.”

“Do I have to wear diapers outside of school?” I pleaded.

“Well, that's a good question.” She replied. “Here's how I see it. And I think you'll like this.”

“Really Grandma?” I asked.

“Just listen sweetheart.” She scolded, thought not crossly. “Here at home and outside in the yard and the neighborhood, you don't need to wear diapers and you can use the toilets here. Just be sure to sit like a girl when you pee.”

“I will Grandma. Thank you!” I beamed.

Grandmother continued. “Stephanie Crandall, my granddaughter, is a thirteen year old girl. A young lady! And I'll allow you to dress in more age appropriate clothes, though skirts and dresses only. No pants or trousers!”

I was beginning to like the sound of most of this. “Yes Grandma, I understand. Thank you!”

“But out in public, away from home, like at school and shopping and going out to dinner and such, you can't use public restrooms.” She said. “You can't go into a Mens Room and you have no business being in a Ladies Room. So you'll need to be diapered.”

I groaned, though not greatly. “I know that Grandma.”

“Also,” and she smiled wistfully in thought, “occasionally when we go out in public, I may want you to be dressed like you are now. A precious, pretty little eight year old girl in a pretty dress and petticoats and braids and ribbons. All sugar and spice and everything nice!”

I could live with all this, I thought. It was better than being back home and at my old school. And to show my gratitude (and gain points with her), I stood up and curtsied to her and gave her a hug.

“Thank you ever so much Grandma!”

“You're welcome honeybunch. But all this hinges on you behaving and obeying me and acting like a proper young lady at all times.” She warned.

I curtsied again and gave her a broad smile. “Yes Grandma, I will.”

My first evening/night at Grandma's was a quiet and pleasant one. She made pot roast for dinner, which was a favorite of mine. I helped her with the dishes and then we went upstairs to my bedroom and unpacked my bags into my closet and dresser drawers. We spent the remainder of the evening in the living room chatting and watching TV. I'd never had the opportunity to really talk to my grandmother alone. And I discovered that she was actually a pretty cool lady. Though she was sixty seven, she seemed to have the spirit of a much younger woman.

At eleven o'clock, she declared. “Okay Steph. Time for you to bathe and hit the hay. You can sleep in tomorrow, but not past ten. We have to go shopping for your school uniform.”

“Yes Grandmother.” I said and I got up from the sofa and gave her one final curtsey and walked to her chair and bent down and hugged her. And as she kissed me on the cheek, I felt her hands pushing gently on the fullness of my dress which I was still adorned in.

“So sweet!” She gushed. “Sugar and spice!”

Upstairs, I changed into a simple, pink nitey and panties. No diapers and plastic pants thankfully. I took a quick bubble bath and brushed my teeth and plopped myself down on my pink, ruffled canopy bed to undo my ribbons and braids. I laughed a little as I looked around the room more closely. It truly was a sissy little girl's dream come true! But not for this sissy, I thought. But I could live with it. And I wondered if dad had felt like me when this was his room all those many years ago. Or could he have possibly liked it???

At 10AM on the dot, I was awakened from my very sound sleep by a knock on my door and a gentle call from grandmother. “Wake up sleepy head! Gotta go shopping. C'mon down for breakfast and then you can get dressed.”

At breakfast, Grandma said. “Why don't you get dressed a little more simply today Stephanie. More like a thirteen year old than an eight year old. You don't have a lot in the way of older girl's clothes, but I did see a few things when we unpacked you last night.”

“Sure Grandma!” I quickly agreed.

“Well, finish your pancakes and juice. And if you'll wash up the breakfast dishes, I'll go to your bedroom and see if I can't find some clothes more suitable for a thirteen year old young lady. Okay sweetheart?”

“Well, I suppose but...”

“Don't worry Stephie.” She interrupted, having read my mind. “Nothing frilly. And you won't have to get dressed in front of me.”

“Okay then. Thanks.” I sighed in relief.

As I wiped the last dish dry, Grandma returned. And I walked for my bedroom and Grandma said. “Don't do anything with your makeup and hair. We'll do that together Steph.”

Upstairs, Grandma had laid out my clothes on the bed. The first thing to catch my eye was three Depends and a pair of simple, plain white vinyl diaper pants. I groaned, having forgotten that I needed them when out in public where I couldn't use the restrooms.

With my Depends and diaper pants in place, I pulled up the long, navy blue knee socks that matched the knee length, navy blue pleated skirt that waited for me on the bed. A bra with slightly padded inserts in the cups was next. With that done, I stepped into the pleated skirt and pulled it up and zipped and buttoned it. I poked my head and arms into the simple, cream colored V-neck sweater and pulled it down over me. With black leather Maryjanes on my feet, I walked to the full length mirror and gasped at my reflection.

I wasn't particularly thrilled with the budding little “Twin Peaks” poking out the front of my sweater. But they were, I supposed afterall, age appropriate for a young, teenage girl like me.

But what really abhored me was the very obvious bulge of my diapers underneath my skirt. No billowing petticoats to conceal it.

As I started to push on the bulk of my diapers in an effort to lessen it, I heard Grandmother knock on the door. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” Was all I called in dismay.

“Oh my!” Grandma said, as she saw my bulging skirt and the forlorn look on my face. “I'd forgotten that would happen! Your dad had the same problem when he wore a pleated skirt over his diapers. But not to worry, I have just the solution!” She exclaimed. “I know right where it is. I'll be back in a minute.” And she rushed off to her bedroom across the hall.

And in less than a minute, she returned holding a hanger. She removed the black plastic bag that covered what hung on it and said. “This was your father's. He wore it under his pleated skirts when he had the same bulging problem.”

It was a short, simple, not very full, soft white petticoat. And it looked to be in perfect condition.

“But Grandma, I have lots of petticoats of my own.” I said.

“Yeah, but they're all too long and too full.” She replied. “This one's just right. Just enough material to hide the bulge without being too outrageously poufie. And it's almost like new. It hid your father's diaper bulge just great!”

“But girls don't wear a petticoat under a pleated skirt like mine!” I argued.

“Oh, it will be hardly noticeable. And bettter than noticeable diapers.” She countered. “And besides, it'll give you a bit of a “Goth” look!”

“You know about the Goth look?” I asked in surprise.

“Yeah, I do Stephie. There's a lot about me that you'd be surprised to know.”

And she handed the hanger to me. “Now c'mon.” And she giggled. “Like father, like son!”

I immediately scowled at her. And she immediately replied. “I'm sorry Stephanie. That was a very inappropriate thing for me to say. Please forgive me!”

“Oh, it's okay Grandma.” I genuinely said back to her.

“Okay then, try it on.” And she turned her back to me so I could pull it up under my skirt.

When it was in place, I said. “Okay Grandma.”

She turned around and fiddled with it a bit and pronounced. “There! See Steph? Perfect!”

She was actually right. It worked like a charm. And not outrageously.

“Goth, you say?” I said looking at her with a little grin.

She grinned back. “Yup Stephie, Goth! Now let's do your hair and makeup and be on our way.”

She applied just a little makeup. Only enough to be appropriate for a young teenaged girl. The pink lip gloss matched my fingernail polish. Small hooped gold earrings and a matching gold necklace followed. I expected the braiding process to begin next. But instead, Grandmother said. “How about a hairdo more befitting a pretty teenager like you?”

“Sure!!!” I gladly replied.

She brushed my long brown hair for several minutes until it was smooth and tangle free and shiny. Then she pulled it up in the back in a long, luxurious perky ponytail and secured it in place with an elastic band. And she covered that with a pink scrunchie.

I looked in the mirror and I didn't see a pretty, little eight year old girl. I saw a cute teenaged girl instead!

“Thank you Grandma!” I said beaming at her in the mirror.

“My pleasure sweetheart. You're a knockout Steph!”

I smiled. It was the first time, since my girlish Hell began all those many months before, that I actually felt okay about being a girl. Not great! Not even good! But okay. And I even felt fairly comfortable, well except for my diapers.

As we drove to the Mall, I became aware of one other uncomfortable thing---my petticoat. The petticoat, in and of itself, was fine. But the idea of it made me uncomfortable. I mean, I was a boy wearing my father's hand-me-down petticoat under my skirt to mask a diaper bulge. It was downright bizarre! Perverse even! But then, my whole life was bizarre and perverse now! Talk about “following in your father's footsteps”! Hell, I was “walking in my father's petticoat”! But the petticoat did nicely and simply solve the diaper bulge problem.

I had one more uncomfortable feeling when we reached our destination. Of course, the Mall was the one from this past summer at Camp Sissy Curls. Hell, I thought as we parked, it's just a Mall, like any other. Except for all the humiliation and embarrassment I suffered at it! I wasn't thrilled as we walked inside. But I was confident that my experience at the Mall now would be a lot better than my experiences last summer.

We had entered the Mall at the Food Court and Grandma immediately made a suggestion. “I want to talk to you about something Steph, before we go to Mc Bride's for your school uniform. Let's grab something to drink and sit down for a few minutes and I'll tell you.”

“Is there a problem?” I asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all sweetheart.” She said. “Nothing's wrong. I just want to suggest something to you.”

A few minutes later, we sat down at a vacant table and I sucked on the straw of my Pepsi and Grandma stirred the creamer in her coffee. “Stephie, I suggest that our first stop should be at Victoria's Secret here in the Mall.”

“Victoria's Secret???” I said with great surprise.

“Yup!” She said. “I think we should try to buy you a waist cincher and we can probably find one there.”

“A waist cincher!!! What's that?”

“Well, it's kind of like a mini corset.” Grandma replied.

I was totally lost. “What's a corset?”

“You'll see honey, if you take my recommendation and check one out.”

“What's it for?” I asked.

“It's to help you look more like a real girl your age.” She explained. “You see, young teenaged girls are usually well into the stage in their lives when they're beginning to blossom. They're starting to mature physically. Their br.easts are starting to develop. Hence, the modest padding I put in your bra. Their hips and behind start to round out. Their figures begin to take on what's called an hourglass shape.” And she mimicked the shape with her hands. “Do you know what I mean Steph?”

“Yeah, they're starting to become real Babes!” I replied.

“Precisely sweetie!” She said with a laugh. “Now your budding boobies are taken care of with your padded bra and when you're in diapers, the well rounded hips and behind are certainly there. Now you just need something to take in your waist a little to create the hourglass shape. And that's what a waist cincher will do.”

“I don't know if I want one Grandma.” I said in doubt.

“When you're eight year old Stephie, a girlish figure doesn't matter. Little girls and little boys have basically the same straight, flat figures. But a girlish figure does matter for thirteen year old Stephie!”

I stood up and placed my hands on my hips. “But Grandma, you can see. I'm not fat. My waist seems to look alright.”

“True Steph, but that's because you're wearing a loose, bulky, and untucked sweater. If you were wearing a tucked in blouse or tight fitting top, you'd see what I mean. And I think you'll see what I mean when you try on your school blouse and uniform. But it's up to you Stephie. It's your choice. I truly won't force it on you.”

Well, it was tight and cumbersome and uncomfortable, but forty-five minutes later I stepped out of Victoria's Secret wearing a waist cincher underneath my clothes.

“You'll see better what I mean when you try on your school uniform Steph.” Grandma said as we started for Mc Bride's. “You'll be a real Babe! Trust me.”

“I trust you Grandma.” I said, as I slipped my hand into hers.

As we walked along, I was thrilled that absolutely no one took any real notice of me. I was just a normal teenage girl walking along with her grandmother. And nobody knew I was wearing diapers.

When we entered Mc Bride's, we were immediately greeted by a middle aged saleslady. “Hello ladies! Can I help you?” She asked.

“Yes please.” Grandma replied. “My granddaughter here will start attending school at Sacred Heart Academy in Johnsonville tomorrow. I know this is the place to get the correct school uniform she'll need.”

“Oh, Sacred Heart is a wonderful girl's school. And this is definitely the place to get the right uniform.” And the saleslady looked at me. “You'll enjoy it there! Please follow me ladies.”

As we headed for the school uniform section of the store, the saleslady said to Grandma. “I'm guessing she's a size 12. We'll start there.”

In front of a long rack of identical Sacred Heart uniforms in various sizes, she pulled out a size 12 and hung it back on the rack facing out for us to see.

“This is the Sacred Heart uniform. Very smart looking, don't you think?” She said.

It was a red plaid, tartan jumper. The skirt of the jumper was a knee length, pleated kilt. The bib straps crisscrossed down the back to the waist of the skirt.

“It even has the school crest on it!” The saleslady said, pointing at an emblem/patch on the corner of the bib over the heart. “Matching knee socks and white, short or long sleeved Peter Pan collar blouses are traditionaly worn with it. We even have matching, red plaid hairbows to go with it!”

“Marvelous! But what about shoes?” Grandma asked.

Looking at my feet, the saleslady replied. “Her black leather Maryjanes are perfect. But about the petticoat, will that be worn with the uniform?”

“Yes.” Grandma said with a little grin. “It's kind of her way of making a fashion statement.”

“Cool!” The saleslady said with a slight giggle. And I blushed. “Come with me ladies and we'll get a blouse and the rest of what you'll need and then off to the dressing room to try it on.”

As we headed for the rack of blouses, the saleslady said. “I know this is going to sound like I'm trying to push you into purchasing more things but it's a smart idea to buy two uniforms and three or four blouses and pairs of knee socks, since the same outfit is worn each day.”

With everything we needed in hand, Grandma escorted me into the dressing room. “I can try it on myself!” I said.

“I know you can sweetheart. I just want to help my sweet granddaughter get into her first school uniform. Like I did with your dad so many years ago.”

Five minutes later, Grandma examined the fit of the uniform as I stood in front of the mirror in the dressing room. “Looks just right Steph!” She remarked, as she replaced the scrunchie in my ponytail with a red plaid matching hairbow. “And see how the waist cincher helps give you a more girlish waist and figure.”

“Yeah.” I marvelled. “You're right!!!”

Outside in the shop, the saleslady checked the fit and hang of the uniform on me and said. “Looks perfect! You should be all set. And I like the way the petticoat gives the skirt a little fullness!”

“Could she wear it home please? Remove all the tags?” Grandma asked the saleslady.

“Absolutely!” The saleslady answered with a smile at me.

“Wouldn't you like to wear it home Stephanie? Sort of get the feel of it before tomorrow?” Grandma asked.

I actually liked the way it felt and how I looked in it. Well, as far as being a girl went. I mean, I looked exactly like a thirteen year old school girl, without question! The uniform seemed to give me more confidence. And I said proudly to Grandma. “Sure, I'll be glad to wear it home.”

“I'm so proud of you Stephanie!” Grandma said, as we stepped back out into the Mall with our purchases.

“Why?” I asked.

“I'm so proud of what a lovely young lady you're becoming!”

“Thank you Grandma.” I said and I slipped my hand in hers.

As we walked, hand in hand, she said. “How about two more stops here at the Mall and then we'll head for home?”

“Okay. Where to?” I asked.

“There's a nail boutique just up ahead. A manicure and eyebrow waxing would be the icing on the cake for you Steph. Would you like that? And then Ruby Tuesday for dinner?”

“Yes please Grandma!” I replied. I did, afterall, want to look my girlish best for my first day at Sacred Heart Academy tomorrow.

Two hours later, with a fresh manicure and eyebrow waxing and a full tummy, I walked confidently alongside Grandma toward the Mall exit for the parking lot.

As we neared the exit, I zipped up my Macintosh and looked up and saw a woman just entering the Mall. I gasped in horror as I recognized the face and quickly turned away from her as we crossed paths. I was so shocked by the sight of her that I actually wet myself just a little.

“What's the matter Steph?” Grandma asked.

I glanced back over my shoulder and saw the back of the woman steadily walking away from us and sighed with great relief. “Nothing Grandma. Nothing at all.”

I had hoped I'd never see Ms Roberts from Camp Sissy Curls again.

We got back home just after seven and Grandma and I put away and hung up my new school clothes. When we were done, Grandma suggested. “Why don't I run a bubble bath for you Steph and you can soak and get all bathed and ready for tomorrow. One less thing for you to do in the morning. You got to be to school by eight.”

“Yeah, thanks. That's probably a good idea.” I agreed. And besides, I did have just slightly wet diapers from my near encounter with Ms Roberts at the Mall.

“I'll set a razor and shaving cream on the side of the tub in case you have any stubble on your legs sweetheart.”

I undid my ponytail and took off my Maryjanes while Grandma ran a tub for me in my bathroom. She returned a minute later and said to me. “Wash your hair and condition it and I'll be glad to blow dry it and brush it out for you Steph. You want to look your best for your first day at Sacred Heart.”

“Sure, that would be great Grandma.”

About an hour later, I stepped from the tub all squeaky clean, sweet smelling, and smooth as a baby. I wrapped my hair in a towel and as I got into my nitey, Grandma knocked on my door and called. “You ready for me Stephie?”

“Sure Grandma, c'mon in.”

Grandma had me sit in front of the mirror of my vanity. She towel dried my hair first and then took a rattail comb and a blow dryer and finished the drying. Done, she picked up a hairbrush and began to slowly and thoroughly brush my long locks.

“Oh Grandma. That feels so good!” I sighed, hoping she'd never stop.

She giggled a little and said. “Now you know why girls are always playing with and doing each other's hair!”

And she brushed my hair for another ten minutes or so and put the brush down and ran her fingers through it. “You have such long, thick beautiful hair Stephie. It's gotta be a good four or five inches below your shoulders now.” Then she took an elastic band and secured in a ponytail at the nape of my neck for the night.

“Stephie honey.” Grandma said, as she fondled my ponytail. “You're probably not going to be thrilled with this but, I want you to wear braid loops to school. But just for the first day or two!”

“But why?” I groaned and pleaded. “I want a ponytail like I had today! Braid loops are for little girls!”

“I understand sweetheart. And on Friday at the latest, you can have a ponytail.” She assured. “I just want the first impression you make on the principal, Sister Veronica, and your teachers to be that of a sweet, young schoolgirl. Get you off on the right foot with them!”

“Oh geez Grandma! You promise by Friday at the latest, I can have a ponytail?”

“I promise!” She said.

I didn't pursue it any further. Grandma had been so loving and kind to me the past two days and correct in all her ideas and suggestions. She was probably right again.

“Okay Grandma.” I said.

“That's my girl!” She said with a smile. “Now off to bed. You have a big day tomorrow. And I know you'll fit in perfectly at Sacred Heart. I'll go with you to school in the morning to get you all settled in there.”

As she tucked me in, she kissed me on the forehead and said. “I love you Stephie.”

“I love you too Grandma.” I cooed.

As I started to put on my Macintosh for the trip to school Wednesday morning, Grandma said. “Hold up Steph. Almost forgot!” And she headed back upstairs for my bedroom and quickly returned. “Can't forget these!” She said as she clipped a matching red plaid hairbow into each of my braid loops. “There, perfect!”

Yeah, perfect for a little eight year old girl, I thought.

At 8AM on the dot, Grandma and I walked into the school office of Sacred Heart Academy. The secretary greeted us from behind her desk. “Hi Mrs. Crandall. And this must be your lovely granddaughter Stephanie. Sister Veronica's expecting you both. You can hang your coats on the rack over there and have a seat on the bench. I'll tell her you're here.” And she walked to the principal's office and poked her head inside and said. “Stephanie Crandall and her grandmother are here Sister Veronica.”

Moments later, Sister Veronica stepped out from her office. “Good morning Mrs. Crandall.” She said as she shook Grandma's hand. Then she looked at me and smiled and said. “Hello Stephanie. I've been looking forward to meeting you. Welcome to Sacred Heart Academy.” And she held out her hand for me to shake.

But I didn't take her hand. Instead, I took the sides of my skirt in my hands and curtseyed to her and replied. “Good morning Sister Veronica.”

“Oh my, such a polite young lady!” She gushed.

I smiled. I'd learned from experience that I could wrap a lady around my little finger with a demure, girlish curtsey.

“Please step into my office and have a seat.” She said, holding her arm out toward the door.

As we sat down in chairs in front of her desk, she closed the office door and sat down behind the desk. “You look absolutely adorable Stephanie! So much like your dad when he was a schoolgirl here at Sacred Heart so many years ago.”

“Yes she does Sister Veronica!” Grandma couldn't resist adding.

“Well, let's get down to business, shall we?” Sister Veronica said looking at me. “Absolutely no one here knows you're really a boy, except me. And if you keep up appearances, no one will know. You certainly look the part. But be sure to always act the part too Stephanie.”

“Yes, I will Sister.” I said im my best girlie voice.

“I assume the petticoat you're wearing underneath your skirt is to hide a diaper bulge. Is that correct Stephanie?”

“Yes Sister.” I replied.

“Very good. Then you understand that the girls lavatories are off limits to you.”

I nodded my head in agreement as she continued. “You seem like a bright, intelligent boy--well girl--so I'm sure you're smart enough to know to make good use of the toilet at home before you come to school!”

I blushed and said. “Yes Sister Veronica.”

“But if you find yourself in need of a diaper change here at school, just report to the health office across the hall. The school nurse doesn't know that you're a boy but she does know that you wear diapers to school. She and I are the only ones that know that.”

“But I can change myself Sister!” I interrupted.

“Of course Stephanie, I know that.” She replied. “And you'll be expected to change yourself! There's a small room off the health office where you can do that in private. Your grandmother left a large supply of disposable diapers and supplies here when she registered you Monday morning.”

“Oh good. Thank you Sister.” I said.

“Well I hope, for your sake, that diaper changes will be few and far between.”

“Yes Sister.” I agreed.

“Now, kind of along the same lines.” Sister Veronica continued. “You'll be excused from phys. ed. classes with the excuse of health reasons. That whole issue would be just too difficult to deal with. You'll have a study hall instead during that time.”

I was relieved to hear that.

“Well then, I think we're done here.” And she stood up form behind her desk and looked at Grandmother. “I'll see you at Mass on Sunday Mrs. Crandall.”

“Oh yes Sister, and Stephanie too!” Grandma replied.

“Say goodbye to your grandmother, Stephanie, and I'll show you to your locker and homeroom and you can get started.” Sister Veronica said with a smile. “I'm sure you'll enjoy it here at Sacred Heart Academy. I know your father did!”

“Yes Sister, I'm sure I will.” And I stood up and gave her another curtsey for good measure.

I hugged Grandma goodbye and she whispered in my ear. “You'll fit in here perfectly.”

As Sister Veronica and I walked out of the office and into the hall, she said. “Your locker and homeroom are just down at the end of this hall. You'll have most of your classes there with your teacher, Miss Picone. She's a brand new lay teacher this year. She's very nice. You'll like her.”

At my locker, Sister Veronica handed me a slip of paper with the combination on it. “Memorize it and then throw it away.”

Sister Veronica waited patiently as I fumbled a little with the combination but managed to open the locker. I hung my coat inside but kept the binder and notebooks Grandma had given me.

“C'mon Stephanie, I'll take you inside to meet Miss Picone and the class.” She said, directing me toward the classroom door.

Miss Picone was young and very pretty. Probably just out of college. She greeted me with a warm, cheerful smile and introduced me to the class and pointed to the desk that was mine and carried on with her math lesson.

I didn't have much of an opportunity to interact with the other girls until it was time for lunch. As we all headed for the lockers and then the cafeteria, I got a few curious looks from some of my fellow classmates. But I knew that it wasn't because they thought, in any way, that I was a boy. And I knew my diapers were not detectable. It had to be my childish braid loops and maybe my petticoat because, other than that, I looked just like they did. And in some cases, even prettier, I arrogantly thought.

I found a seat at a table with a group of girls from my class. But I didn't actually sit with them. I was too shy and sat a few seats away. They smiled over at me and a few giggled. Probably the braid loops. As I opened the lunch bag Grandma had packed for me, one of the girls picked up her lunch tray and walked over and sat down next to me.

“Hi newbie! What's your name again?” She asked.

“Stephanie. Stephanie Crandall. But most people call me Steph or Stephie.”

“Well, welcome to Sacred Heart Stephie!” She said cheerfully, as she extended her hand to me. “I'm Penelope. Penelope Lane.”

I wondered why so formal and asked. “But why? Penelope's a cool name, but so is Penny!”

She laughed and said. “Well think about it Stephie!”

I thought about it for a moment but was clueless as to what she meant and replied. “I don't follow you Penelope.”

“Penny!” She said and then started to softly sing. “Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes!”

“Ohhh! Now I see!” I said with a little giggle.

“Yeah, my parents are huge Beatles fans.” She said.

As we ate our lunches, Penelope asked. “What's with the petticoat Stephie?”

“Oh, to be perfectly honest, it's just my way of trying to make a little bit of a fashion statement. Goth I guess! Pretty stupid--huh?” I said feeling a little foolish.

“Actually no Stephie. I think it's kind of cool. This place could use a litttle Goth!” Penelope said. “But you gotta lose those braids! You're not eight years old!”

“I know. You're right!”

The remainder of the afternoon went pretty well. And Penelope was even on my bus home and sat next to me and bubbled and blubbered on about all matter of girlie things. She was a very gregarious and vivacious girl and I was glad that she monopolized the conversation. And I was even more glad for the friendship she was showing me.

At home, Grandma was eagerly waiting for me as I walked into the house. “Hi Steph! I'm dying to hear how your day went!”

“Sure Grandma.” I said. “Just let me get something to drink from the fridge.”

A minute later, I sat down on the sofa next to her and popped my soda can open and kicked off my Maryjanes.

“Well???” Grandma asked with much anticipation.

“Everything went fine. Really pretty good!” I said and a broad smile appeared on Grandma's face. “And I made a new friend! Her name's Penelope Lane. She's funny and nice.” And then I added, with probably a bit too much emphasis. “And she's really cute!!!”

“Hey, hold your horses there Steph!” Grandma scolded, though kindly. “Remember, to her you're a GIRL!”

“Oh Grandma, that's not what I meant!!!” I lied with a girlish giggle.

“Well, I'm so pleased that your day went well sweetie!” She exclaimed. “I knew everything would be fine.”

“Yeah, but I gotta lose the braid loops. Please Grandma! I know they caused a few giggles from some of the girls.”

“Sure Steph, like I promised.” And she fiddled with one of them and asked. “Ponytail tomorrow Steph???”

“Yes please!!!” I replied with a smile as broad as Grandma's.

The next morning, I was glad to step onto the morning school bus. It was dank and cold waiting for the bus outside Grandma's house.

“Hey Steph! Over here. I saved you a seat.” I heard Penelope call.

“Thanks Penelope.” I said, as I sat down next to her. “I'm glad we're on the same bus in the morning too!”

“Yeah, me too.” She replied and then she slipped her hand into mine and we held hands for the ride to school. I thought holding hands was kind of strange, but she was a pretty girl and I enjoyed the little bit of physical contact with her. And she smelled good too. And it made me feel more secure in my new situation. Besides, girls were always much more “touchy/feely” than boys.

“The ponytail's a big improvement Stephie! Very cute.” She complimented.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks Penelope.”

The second day at school went fine, as did the third and fourth and so on. After a few weeks, I had a fair amount of friends but Penelope was, by far, my best friend. And no one had even the slightest inkling that I was a boy or that I wore diapers under my school uniform. Only once had I wet my diapers, while walking between classes. And I handled it quicky and simply at the nurse's office. And I'd never pooped them, thank God. And to my amazement, I noticed some of the girls starting to wear slight petticoats underneath their uniforms like me. I had started a fashion trend. And I seemed to be doing very well in my classes. I felt comfortable and good about myself, well at least as far as being a girl went!

My Dad called pretty regularly to see how I was getting along. He and stepmother had even come up to visit me once and had, thankfully, left Laura behind with a sitter--Sally Jo Reynolds. They took Grandma and I out to dinner.

Sometimes when Grandma and I went out somewhere that wasn't in the area, like when we'd gone to dinner with Dad and stepmother, Grandma would ask me to go out as little eight year old Stephanie. And I'd oblige her without argument. She was, afterall, very good to me. Getting all “prissied up” in one of my frilliest outfits, complete with braid loops and matching hairbows, was kind of my way of returning the favor.

One day in early Spring, at lunch, Penelope asked me if I wanted to go to the C.Y.O. dance with her that Friday night. The C.Y.O. was the Catholic Youth Organization and, among other activities, they held monthly dances.

“There'll be lots of cute boys there Stephie!” She prodded. “You'll be a big hit with them!”

“No, I don't think so Penelope. But thanks anyway.” I said.

“Aw, c'mon Steph! The dances are lots of fun. And you haven't been to one yet!” She pleaded.

“Oh, I really don't think I'd be comfortable there.”

“But the boys!!!” She coaxed.

“No thanks Penelope. I really don't think I want to.”

“Are you gay Steph???” She asked laughingly.

Though her question seemed to be meant in jest, it was a bit of an odd thing to say. “Of course not!!!” I replied.

I wasn't thrilled about the idea. It would be my first real experience around boys as Stephanie, the Catholic schoolgirl. But I gave in and agreed.

As we walked from lunch back to class, Penelope put her arm around my waist and said. “I promise you're gonna have a really great time at the dance Steph.”

That Friday night after dinner, Grandma helped me get ready for the dance--a cute, off white, knit top and padded bra over a knee length, navy blue pleated skirt and my modest petticoat and diapers. Sheer panty hose and black T-Bars completed the outfit. She helped me with my makeup and lip gloss and spritzed perfume on my wrists and behind my ears. Then she brushed and did my hair up in a high ponytail with a navy blue scrunchie.

“There you go Steph.” She said with a smile. “A real Babe!”

“Yeah, but that's the problem!” I complained.

“What do you mean sweetie?” She asked.

“Well, what do I do if boys approach me and want to talk to me or even ask me to dance with them? I mean, I may be a real Babe on the outside, but I'm a real BOY underneath. And real BOYS don't like boys that way!”

“I know you're a real BOY Steph! And hard to believe as it might be, I'm glad you're ALL BOY, despite appearances.” She said and paused a moment in thought. “You know, if a boy asks you to dance, tell him you're just getting over the flu and you are probably still contageous.”

Well, that didn't calm my fears about the whole idea of it much, but I figured I'd use the line.

At 7:30, the doorbell rang and I opened the door. “Hi Steph, ready to go? My mom's waiting for us.” And Penelope pointed to her car waiting at the curbside.

I kissed Grandma goodbye and Penelope and I walked for the car holding hands.

“You look great Stephie!”

“You too Penelope!”

As I stepped into the car, Mrs. Lane said. “Hello Stephanie. It's nice to finally meet you. Penny's talked so much about you!”

“Penny”, I thought. I'd forgotten about Penny Lane. As we drove for the dance, I thought I'd have to request “Penny Lane” from the deejay at the dance, if he had it, as a joke.

At the dance, Penelope and I were almost immediately beset by two boys. It shouldn't have been a surprise to me. Penelope was very outgoing and quite pretty. And though I was shy, I knew I was equally pretty.

We had a typical awkward chat with them until they asked us to dance.

“Sure!” Penelope said to the one who'd asked her.

“I'm sorry, I really shouldn't.” I said to the other. “I'm just getting over a bout of the stomach flu and I'm afraid I may still be contageous.”

The boy looked disappointed and Penelope looked surprised as they left me alone for the dance floor.

But I wasn't alone for long. Soon a boy, and then another, approached me and struck up conversations and asked me to dance. I declined both with the same “flu” excuse. So I decided to try to be a little less conspicuous and headed for the punch table.

As I sipped on a cup of punch, Penelope came over. “Hey Steph, I saw a couple of boys talking to you while I was dancing. They were cute! Did they ask you to dance?”

“Yeah, but I told them no.” I said.

“Why??? They were really hot!” She exclaimed. “Are you really sick with the stomach flu?”

“Yeah, I think I'm coming down with the bug.” I lied.

“Well that may be Steph, but I think a big part of it is that you're just very shy with boys. Right?”

I nodded my head yes and said. “I don't have a lot of experience with boys.” And she had no way of knowing why I had no interest in them, of course.

“Well you need to get experienced Stephie.” She said. “Dance with the next boy who asks you!”

No sooner said, then I was asked again to dance. I figured my “flu” excuse was wearing thin and replied. “Maybe later. Please excuse me. I need to use the Ladies Room.”

As I walked away heading for it, I realized that was a stupid excuse. Girls lavatories were supposed to be off limits to me. And though I certainly had an interest in girls, I surely had no interest in their lavatories. But there was no going back now. And Penelope accompanied me.

“Are you gonna be sick Steph?” She asked as we stepped inside.

“No, I just want to powder my nose.” And I walked to the mirror and took my compact out of my purse. Penelope did likewise.

As we powdered our faces, she said.”C'mon Steph, dance with the next boy who asks. You can do it. Don't be such a tease to the boys!”

“Tease”, I devilishly thought as we left the restroom. Maybe I could have a little fun with that! I'd certainly had much more than my share of teasing in the last, almost, year. Maybe I could inflict a little teasing on someone else for a change. I was definitely a good actor, well--actress, I should say.

Out on the dance floor, two boys quickly approached us. They introduced themselves. Phil and Bret. Why, I'm not really sure, but I stupidly decided to play the “coquette”. As we all chatted, I girlishly tilted my head at a slight angle and smiled and even batted my eyelashes a bit. I placed one hand on my hip and gently rocked side to side while using my other hand to play with my long, perky ponytail. I could have won an Oscar.

Bret was standing in front of me as we talked and, before long, he held out his arms a little toward me and asked. “Would you please dance with me Stephie?”

Before I could get even a single word out, Penelope pushed me into his arms and exclaimed. “She'd love to!!!”

Now, I really regretted my foolish “coquette” act. I was stuck!

Unfortunately, it was a slow dance. He put his arms around my waist and pulled my body up against his and placed his neck next to mine, with his head resting lightly on my shoulder. I didn't really know how to dance, especially as a girl! I gritted my teeth and loosely put my arms around his waist and just followed his lead. And it was GROSS!!!

“You smell really great Stephie!” Bret said, as he nuzzled my neck. I said nothing in reply, just praying for the song to end.

As we danced on, he gently kissed me behind my left ear. And I thought I was going to puke! Now I totally regretted my stupid “coquette” act. When he moved his hands down from my waist to my bum, I pushed him away.

“I'm not that kind of girl Bret!” And I raced off for the shelter of the Ladies Room.

A minute or so later, Penelope joined me there. “What happened Steph? Bret's a real hunk!”

“He put the moves on me!” I exclaimed. And that was all I offered.

As we left the Ladies Romm, I knew I should play the “wallflower”, as best I could, instead of the “coquette”. And I succeeded pretty well with that. And Penelope kept busy dancing.

It was 9:30. The dance would be over at 11:00. To pick my spirits up, I went over to the deejay to request “Penny Lane”.

“Yup, I got it.” He said. “I'll play it before too long.”

As I walked back for the seat I'd taken in a corner out of the way, I felt an ominous rumbling in my stomach. And I remembered I hadn't pooped since the night before. And I stupidly hadn't tried to poop before leaving for the dance. But I didn't panic. I'd already broken the Ladies Room “taboo” twice, so I just headed there to relieve myself. I certainly didn't want to use my diapers at the dance.

I went inside and, to my horror, the place was packed. And the stalls all had long lines of girls waiting to use them. I got in a line to wait my turn. There were never waits like this in a Mens Room, I thought.

The wait seemed endless! And my need to poop was becoming quite urgent. After about five minutes, with two girls still ahead of me in line, I knew I couldn't wait long enough to get a stall.

Again, I didn't panic. It was time for a cool head and quick thinking. I left the lavatory and grabbed my coat and walked quickly outside. If I had to poop my diapers, outside was the place to do it.

Outside, well away from the entrance and out of view, I exploded into my diapers. A huge, stinky load!

But I remained pretty calm about it. Again, I kept a cool head in this awful situation. I thought a moment and reached into my purse for my cell phone.

“Hello Grandma? I'm afraid I had an accident at the dance!” --PAUSE-- “No, not that kind of accident. I'm not hurt. I'm afraid I had an accident in my diapers!” --PAUSE-- “Yeah, I wet and pooped them and I don't want to wait here til the end of the dance and have to drive home with Penelope and her mother in poopy diapers.” --PAUSE-- “Yeah, please do come and get me. I'm sorry!” --PAUSE-- “I'm outside. I managed to make it out here before messing myself. Just pull up out front and I'll get in. And thanks Grandma.”

Grandma was quick to respond to my plight. It was only about fifteen minutes before I saw her car pull up at the curbside. And I had avoided detection. I opened the back door and said. “Thanks for getting here so quickly Grandma. I'll sit in the back. I'm afraid I'm pretty stinky!”

“Oh, stinky diapers aren't gonna kill me sweetie!” She said.

As we drove, Grandma was very understanding and didn't scold me at all. “Did anyone know you messed yourself Steph?” She asked.

“Well, I'm sorry your night ended on such a sour note honey.” She said, as she cranked her window open for some fresh air. “But I'm glad you were able to keep your poopy diapers a secret.”

“Oh God, me too!!! Thanks again for picking me up so quickly Grandma!”

“You're welcome Stephanie.”

“Speaking of Penelope, I better call her to let her know I'm on my way home with you.” I said. “She's gotta be wondering where I went!”

“What are you going to tell her Steph?” Grandma asked.

“Well, I'm gonna make something up, but I know what I'll say.” I said, as I punched her number on my cell phone.

“Hi Penelope?” --PAUSE-- “Yeah, I'm very sorry. I'm afraid I got sick and threw up! You know, the stomach flu.” --PAUSE-- “No, I couldn't. The lines were too long. But I managed to get outside before I puked. But I got some on my skirt.” --PAUSE-- “Thanks, but I called my Grandmother to come and get me and I'm riding home with her now.” --PAUSE-- (And I cheered up a little as I heard “Penny Lane” playing in the background at the dance) -- “Yeah, sorry!” --PAUSE-- “Yup, thanks. I'll call you in the morning.”

We got home and I headed upstairs to get out of my poopy, wet diapers and into the shower and ready for bed. Squeaky clean, I put on my nitey and went back downstairs and sat on the sofa next to Grandma and cuddled with her.

“Thanks so much for coming to get me Grandma.” I said and I kissed her on the cheek.

“That's okay sweetheart. No problem. That's what grandma's are for!” And she kissed me back. “I'm just glad that no one knew what really happened and you didn't embarrass yourself.”

“Not as glad as I am!” I said and I kissed her good night. “I'm heading for bed. I'm pooped!”

She giggled at my slip of the tongue. And I giggled back. “I mean, I'm tired!”

As I started to doze off in bed, I thought about the very eventful and not very pleasant evening at the dance. I thought about the very dumb and foolish things I'd done there. And I thought about how I'd forgotten to use the toilet before leaving for the dance. I'd think twice about being so stupid again! But I was very grateful that I had managed to come out of it all unscathed.

I called Penelope the next morning just to touch base with her and to tell her I was feeling much better and to apologize again for having to ditch her at the dance. At school on Monday, there was no mention of me being sick at the dance or leaving it early and definitely, nothing about poopy diapers. The only thing said about me and the dance came from Claire, who sat behind me in homeroom. “I saw you dancing with Bret Friday night Steph. He's a real hottie!” I just giggled, thinking if only she knew how repulsive it was to me and why! But she'd never know. I was that confident.

In fact, with each day and each week that went by, I grew more and more confident in myself, my “Stephie” self. Being a pretty, thirteen year old girl and behaving and acting like one and doing all the things that young teenage girls do was becoming routine to me. Second nature. Almost comfortable and enjoyable. Maybe too comfortable and enjoyable!

It was the beginning of April and Easter would be in a week. The most important holy day in the Catholic Church. But to me, and I'm sure most of the other girls, it didn't mean holy day so much as it meant “holiday”! A week and a half off from school.

On the last day before vacation, in social studies, Miss Picone gave the class a project that would be due when we returned from the Easter break. We had to write a report and put together a brief oral presentation, with visuals, about who we thought was the most important and influential woman of the 20th century. And we could do it alone or with a partner.

After class, Penelope immediately rushed over to me. “Well, who do you think we should do Steph?”

I smiled. “I was gonna ask you the same thing!”

Monday morning, the day after Easter, at breakfast I asked Grandma. “Do you think you could drive me over to Penelope's house this afternoon?”

“Sure sweetheart. What's up?” She asked.

“Miss Picone gave the class an assignment over the vacation to do a report and oral presentation about who we think was the most important and influential woman of the 20th century. And we can partner up for it, so Penelope and I are working together.”

“Wow, big surprise there!!!” She joked and then asked. “Who are you doing it on?”

I laughed and joked right back at her. “Well you of course Grandma!” And we both shared another laugh and I added. “Actually, we haven't decided yet.”

As Grandma and I loaded the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, I said. “Penelope asked me to come over to work on our project at Easter Mass yesterday. She said I could stay for supper and her mom or dad would drive me home no later than ten. It's okay with them! Okay with you?”

“Sure Steph. Sounds like a good plan.”

At 12:15, I was dressed and ready to go to Penelope's. I grabbed my purse and just hung my jacket over my arm, as it was a mild, fairly warm Spring day. And I headed into the living room where Grandma was doing some knitting.

“Can you take me now Grandma?”

She looked up at me from her needles and said. “Sure Steph.” But then she glanced down at my khaki pleated skirt with a puzzled look. “No petticoat Steph???”

“I don't need one Grandma.” I replied.

Then she got up from the sofa and walked to me and patted me on my bum. And I recoiled a bit with embarrassment. “No diapers either Steph???” She scolded.

“But Grandma, I don't need diapers or a petticoat to hide them.”

“You know perfectly well that they're the rule when you're out in public or at school Stephie!” She exclaimed.

“Yeah but I'm not really gonna be out in public where I can't use the restrooms. I'm gonna be at Penelope's house where I can use their bathroom in private. It's like here at home!”

She raised her eyebrows and gave me a skeptical look and before she could speak, I added in support. “But I'm wearing my prettiest lacy pink panties and my waist cincher!!!” And I put my hands on my hips and twisted a little, side to side, with a broad smile on my face. And I batted my eyelashes and modeled my girlish hourglass figure to her.

She smiled and laughed, which was my intention, and said. “You're not on the runway of some fashion show in Paris Stephie!”

I giggled and replied. “Please Grandma. Pretty please!!!”

“Well, I suppose.” She gave in. “You are right about it not being really any different than here at home. But you better be very, VERY careful young lady. No accidents of any sort!”

“Yes Grandma, I will!” And I gave her a hug. Wrapping my dear, loving Grandma around my little finger was pretty easy too!

As Grandma pulled the car into Penelope's driveway and I opened the door to get out, she again warned. “Be careful Stephanie!”

“I know. I will. Love ya!”

I knocked on the door and was soon greeted by my bubbly best buddy. “Hi Steph! C'mon in.” And Penelope took me by the hand and said. “Follow me into the kitchen. I'm just finishing my lunch. My mom's baking peanut butter cookies and you can have some.”

“Hi Stephanie!” Mrs. Lane said, as she set a batch of warm from the oven cookies on the kitchen table. “Hope you're feeling better. The stomach flu can be pretty nasty.”

“I'm fine now, thanks. It was just a 24 hour bug.”

“Well then, have some cookies.” She said. “Want a glass of milk to wash them down with?”

“Yes please.”

As Penelope finished her grilled cheese sandwich and I enjoyed my cookies and milk, a boy stepped into the kitchen. He looked to be a year, two at the most, older than me.

“Steph, this is my brother Brad. He's in nineth grade.” Penelope said. “Brad, this is Stephie.”

“Hi Stephie, nice to meet you.” He replied as he sat across from me to dig into the cookies.

As he chewed away on one and then another, I became very aware of his eyes on me. I'd look up and then he'd quickly glance away.

Penelope soon finished her lunch. “Thanks for the grill cheese Mom. Stephie and I gotta get to work!”

“You're welcome Penny.” Her mom replied.

And Penelope whisked me away upstairs to her bedroom to get started on our project. We sat on her bed and she asked. “Who do you think we should do our report on?”

I had thought thought about it last night. And being the brown nosed, Catholic schoolgirl that I now was, I said. “How about Mother Theresa, Penny Lane?”

“You little snot!” Penelope said with a smile and a little giggle. “You requested that song at the dance Friday night, didn't you?”

I just grinned at her and laughed.

Penelope agreed on Sister Theresa and we spent the next couple of hours at her computer researching and printing out material for our report. Done with that, Penelope suggested. “Let's take a break Steph.”

And she grabbed a stack of recent issues of “Teen Beat Magazine” and “Sweet 16 Magazine” and we sat next to each other on her bed to thumb through them. She oogled and gushed over the fashions and hairstyles and boy celebrities in them. And I did likewise, to keep up girlish appearances.

At one point, she set her magazine down and put her arm around me on my shoulder and said. “Do you think my brother's cute Steph?”

Well, I had no way of knowing if he was cute. A boy doesn't think in those terms about another boy, unless he's gay. But I didn't want to offend Penelope and said. “Sure, why do you ask?”

“Cuz of the way he was looking at you in the kitchen earlier. You had to have noticed that Steph!”

I said nothing and just blushed.

“That shouldn't have surprised you Steph.” And she moved her hand from my shoulder to behind my ear and gently caressed it with her long fingernails and said. “You're really a very pretty girl!!!”

I was bewildered. I knew girls were very “touchy/feely” creatures. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. She sent tingles down my spine. And ELSEWHERE!!!

“Thanks, you're very pretty too!” And I sincerely meant it but added. “We better get back to work now Penelope.”

She giggled. “You can call me Penny. BUT NEVER IN SCHOOL!”

I laughed. “Understood PENNY!”

We kept our noses to the grindstone and worked away until about 5:30, when we heard her mother call. “Your dad's home Penny. Come down for dinner girls.”

At the dinner table, Penelope introduced me to her father who I'd not yet met and he led us in Grace and we all dug into the dinner of fried chicken and all the fixings. And Penelope's brother, Brad, spent a lot of time looking my way and engaging me in conversation. I suppose I should have been flattered that he found me attractive, but it just made me feel uncomfortable.

With supper and dessert over by 6:30, Penelope and I headed back up to her bedroom and diligently worked until about eight when Penelope said. “Enough's enough Steph! Let's pop a movie into the DVD player and watch it until it's time for you to go.”

I'd had enough too and said. “Yeah, good idea.”

We laid on her bed with our backs against the head board and watched some girlie “chick flick”. And Penelope cuddled with me throughout the movie.

Just before ten, Mr. Lane knocked on the bedroom door and called. “Time to take you home Stephanie. Penny and I will drive you.”

As we drove to my house, Penelope said. “I can't tomorrow Steph, but on Wednesday, could we work again at my house just like today?” And she looked over to her dad. “Is that okay Dad? Would Mom be cool with that?”

“Great! Thanks Dad.” And Penelope asked me again. “Will you come on Wednesday to work again on our project Steph?”

“Sure, I'd like that! We still got a lot to do on our report.” I said. “I'll call you tomorrow if, for some reason, I can't. But if you don't hear from me, that means I'll see you Wednesday, same time, same place.”

And we pulled into my driveway.

“Thanks for the ride Mr. Lane!” I said as I stepped out of the car. “See you Wednesday PENNY LANE!”

I heard them both laugh as I pushed the car door shut.

Just past noon on Wednesday, Grandma and I again pulled into Penelope's driveway. And she again warned me, because I was diaper free, to be careful!

I knocked on the door and Penelope greeted me and let me in. I exchanged pleasantries with Mrs. Lane. Brad was nowhere to be seen. And Penelope and I were off to her room and computer to work on our project. We worked a couple hours and decided it was break time. I headed for the bathroom and Penelope went to the kitchen for some Cokes for us.

When we regrouped back in her room, Penelope said. “Steph, my brother begged me to ask you something and he even paid me five bucks to do it!”

“What?” I asked.

“My brother would like to take you out to the movies or somewhere of your choice before the end of vacation.”

I had figured that would be the question. “Oh, I really don't think so Penny.”

She seemed pleased with my answer but asked. “Why not Steph?”

“Oh I guess...I guess you could say he's just not my type.” I replied.

Penelope chuckled and got up from her seat and put her hands on her hips and wiggled them. “Well maybe I'm more your type Stephie!!!”

I laughed, but all joking aside, she'd certainly be my type if only I was a boy again.

We finished our Cokes and pressed on with the project straight through until dinner. And we got most of it done.

I was glad Brad wasn't there at supper. Something about a basketball practice Mrs. Lane had said.

As Penelope and I helped clear the supper dishes, Penelope's mom said. “Penny, your father and I have to go and pick up your brother from basketball practice and then stop at d-ck's Sporting Goods for new sneakers for him. You two want to come? Or can you be trusted to stay here alone?”

And I was glad to hear that. I didn't want to risk going out in public without diapers.

Five minutes later, the Lane's headed out to get Brad and Penelope and I headed back to her room.

“Ya know Steph, we've got a ton done on Mother Theresa!” Penelope said. “And God forgive me, but I'm sick of the old lady! We've got plenty of time to finish our report before school starts back up. Let's just relax and take it easy until it's time for you to go home. What do you say?”

“Sure! You're right. But what do you want to do?” I asked.

She thought a moment and said. “Let's just watch a movie.”

“Aw Penny, we did that Monday night.” I complained.

“Yeah I know Steph. But I'll let you pick the movie!” She bribed. “I got Pirates of the Carribean I and II if you like.”

And then she sweetened the pot with. “And while we watch the movie, I'll brush your hair if you'll brush mine?”

Well that was a girlish delight that I had learned to love and I couldn't pass it up. “Okay Penny. Sounds good!'

“Pirates One or Two?” She asked.

“One please.”

“Good choice Steph. Johnny Depp's less gay in that one!”

With the DVD running, she picked up a hairbrush from her dresser and asked. “You first or me?”

I took the hairbrush from her hand. “I'll do you first Penny.”

She sat cross legged on the bed and I positioned myself right behind her. I undid her ponytail and began to brush her long, thick, light brown hair. She sighed and tooks deep breathes as I brushed away, pausing occassionally to run my long fingernails through it and against her scalp. And I think I was enjoying it as much as she was. Maybe even more, because the front of my skirt was taking on the shape of a tent. But that didn't matter. She couldn't see it with her back to me.

I decided to tease her and said. “You thought I looked silly in braid loops Penny. Remember???”

She just girlishly giggled and took another deep breath.

“Well let's just see how you look in braid loops Penny.” I sweetly teased.

“Sure!!!” She exclaimed. “But let me get what you need.” And she got up and I quickly pressed down on the front of my skirt to hide my raging boner. She fiddled through a basket of hair accessories on her dresser and returned with elastic bands, pink ribbons, pink barrettes, and a hand mirror and comb.

She was ecstatic as I braided away. I looped her long braids with the elastic bands and tied a pink ribbon in each one in a large, perky bow. Then I clipped in the barrettes and handed her the mirror.

“Look in the mirror. Who's the pretty little girl there???” I asked.

“It's pretty little me!!!” She teased back.

I laughed. What was Hell for me was Heaven for her. Go figure!

Doing her hair was intoxicating and I was as horny as could be. And she seemed to be too. As the “little girl” and I switched places, I made sure to keep my “happy wiener” pressed down in front.

“Would you like braid loops, little girl?” She teased me.

“No thanks Penny. Just a nice, soothing brushing please!” I said.

“Sure Steph. Will do.” And she undid my ponytail.

She brushed and brushed and brushed for the longest time. And it felt great! So soothing and so relaxing. Even relaxing between my legs, which was actually a good thing. No tent!

Then she gathered up my hair in a bunch and secured it back into a ponytail with my scrunchie. And I wasn't surprised when I felt her lips tenderly kissing the back of my neck behind one ear. She gently pulled me down on my back on the bed and silently looked into my eyes and smiled sweetly. And she kissed me on the lips and stuck her tongue deep into my mouth. And we held that kiss for the longest time.

And I didn't care that she had a “thing” for girls. That was okay with me! To her, I was a girl but to me, I was a boy. And I was quickly becoming a very, very horny boy again! We necked and French kissed and cuddled for a long time. And she was wonderful!!! And now I was ecstatic and very aroused.

As we groped each other, her hand accidently moved across the front of my skirt and she gasped loudly. Then she pushed herself up onto her knees and looked at the front of my very tented skirt.

“Oh my God!” She squealed. “You're a BOY!!!”

Oh Hell, I thought, “the jig is up” again! Outed once more! Blackmailed into submitting to the humiliating whims and demands of yet another girl probably! And I started to whimper as Penelope continued to rant.

“I can't believe it! It just can't be true! You're a boy!”

I chose to remain silent and let Penelope get it all out.

“Oh dear God! A boy!!! I can't believe it!” And she began to cry. “Oh God, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!! And she blessed herself making the sign of the cross. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Thank you, thank you!”

This all sounded pretty odd to me but I continued to be silent.

“Oh thank you dear God! I'm not gonna go to Hell!!!”

Well, I was really confused now! And even more so when Penelope looked at me and smiled and said. “Oh Steph, or whatever your real name is, thank you. Thank you so much!!!”

I wiped my tears and asked. “But why on Earth are you thanking me???”

Penelope took my hand and held it tightly and replied. “I'm thanking you for being a boy, despite your outward appearance!” And she giggled ever so slightly.

“I'm afraid I'm not following you Penny.” I said.

“You're really a boy. That means I'm not Gay! And I'm not gonna go to Hell!”

I hadn't realized, until now, what a devout Catholic girl she really was.

“Well what do you mean about going to Hell?” I asked her.

“Oh c'mon Steph, you know!” And then she paused a moment and switched gears. “By the way, what's your real name?”

For some reason, it embarrassed me to tell but I answered. “Stephen, Stephen Crandall.”

“Stephen...Stephanie. That makes sense!” She said and continued. “But anyways Stephen, you know that homosexuality is condemned by the Catholic Church. It's a mortal sin! And you can go to Hell for committing a mortal sin.”

“Okay, but...”

She cut me off and continued. “Since you're NOT really a girl, I'm not a Lesbian. My soul is saved!” And she hugged me and added. “I'm so glad you're really a BOY!”

“But Penny, haven't you been ATTRACTED, I'll call it, to girls before?” I asked, having heard that it wasn't all that uncommon for teenaged girls to “experiment” with the same sex. It was even considered trendy sometimes.

“No, not at all! Not until you!” She replied, as she took a few tissues from her night stand to wipe her tears and mine too. “I don't know why. But for some reason from the first time we met, I've been attracted to you in a way that...um...well, you know what I mean!”

I nodded my head “yes” and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“But it's okay.” She sniffled. “Cuz you're really a boy. Who knows? Maybe subconsciously I've known all along that you're a boy.” And she laughed a little. “But you sure don't look and act like one!!!”

I laughed back, glad to see the mood lightening a bit. And I started to say. “But Penny, what about...”

“Shhh!!!” She said putting her finger over my lips, which she then gently kissed. “Stephen?” And then she corrected herself. “No--STEPHANIE, can we please keep all of this our own little secret? Please?”

And she stood up and smiled down at me. “Stephie, if you don't tell anyone that I made out with you---another girl---I won't tell anyone that you're not really a girl.”

I stood up in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders and said. “I will on one condition!”

She looked a little pensive and bit her lower lip. “What Steph?”

“On the condition that we still remain best friends! Best GIRLFRIENDS!” And I fondled one of her braid loops. “Best girlfriends in any way you see fit!”

“Oh God yes Steph!” And she gave me a long passionate kiss on the lips.

We were both emotionally drained, but content. We just sat silently on her bed with our backs against the headboard and innocently cuddled, until we heard the sound of Mr. and Mrs. Lane and Brad returning home. It was just after 9:30.

We both washed our tear stained faces and straightened ourselves up a bit and headed downstairs for my ride home.

“Hi Mom!” Penny called to her mother, who was hanging up her coat in the closet.

Mrs. Lane turned around. “Everything go all...” And then she paused and giggled. “What's with the braid loops and hair ribbons Penny?”

We both had forgotten about Penny's new little girl hairdo. And Penny laughed. “Oh, Steph and I were just playing around doing each other's hair.”

“Well, you're a very pwetty widdle girl Penny!” Her mother joked with a smile on her face. And she added. “Why don't you two get your coats on and Penny's dad will drive you home Stephie.”

As we pulled into my driveway, I thanked Mr. Lane and then said to Penny. “I'll call you tomorrow morning Penny. Maybe you can come over here to finish up the rest of our report.”

“Sure Steph, I'd like that!”

As I laid in bed, I smiled and marveled at the wonderful turn of events of the day.

The next morning, with a “go ahead” from Grandma, I called Penny to invite her over to finish our report.

“Oh gee Steph, I'm sorry. Something's come up and I can't.”

“Well, how about tomorrow?” I asked. “After today, we only got three days left 'til...”

“Sorry Steph.” She interrupted. “Gotta run!”

“Will you call me tomorrow so we...” And all I heard was a click and the dial tone.

I spent the day not really doing a whole lot. I just, pretty much, moped around the house and worried. My phone conversation with Penny had been very brief, too brief in fact. And she hadn't said anything at all about why she couldn't come over. I was afraid that maybe, given the events of yesterday, she was having second thoughts about our relationship.

I wasn't really worried about her exposing me as a boy to anyone. I knew she wouldn't, and really couldn't do that. But I was afraid that maybe she had soured on the idea of us remaining best friends, best girlfriends! It was a worrisome day and night for me.

But on Friday morning, the phone rang and I raced for it.

“Hi Steph!”

“Oh Penny, I've been worried about you!” I exclaimed. “You were so brief on the phone yesterday. Is there something wrong???”

“No, not at all!” She said. “I was just running late for a job. I'm sorry I worried you!”

“A job?”

“Yeah, a babysitting job. I sometimes babysit my next door neighbor's two nine year old twins, a boy and a girl. She's a single mom and she got unexpectedly called into work and I had to hurry over to watch them all day cuz she was in a rush to get to work. I'm sorry Stephie! I should have called you yesterday.”

“Oh,” I sighed in relief, “I understand. No problem Penny!”

“Thanks Steph, you're a love!” She said and added. “Hey, I'm okay for today at your place. If it's cool with you and your grandma!”

“Yeah, fine! I already cleared it with her in case you could come today.”

“Great!” She said. “My Mom will drive me over after I eat lunch. See you then.”

Penny gave me a warm, broad smile as I opened the front door just after lunch. “Hi best friend!” She said.

“Hi best friend!” I said right back at her and I took her hand and walked her inside.

She looked around the living room and said. “Nice place Steph!” It was her first time at my house.

We had only a little bit of the oral presentation and a few more visuals to go with it left to finish up the whole project. We worked at the kitchen table. By five, we were done totally.

Grandma ordered pizza for us for dinner and when we were done, Penny asked. “What do you want to do now Steph? I got 'til ten.”

“I don't know. What do you want to do?”

Penny thought for a moment and said. “Why don't you show me your bedroom Steph? I haven't seen it yet.”

“Oh gee Penny, to be honest, I really don't want to show you it.”

“But why not???”

“Cuz it's so frilly and prissy!” I replied. “You'll laugh.”

“No I won't. I promise! C'mon, let me see it.” She begged.

Penny prodded and coaxed me for another minute until I finally gave in.

It was fine with Grandma, except she told me to stall for a minute or two until she got the few boy's clothes out of my closet. “Can't have any evidence around that you're really a boy.” She whispered.

That was a moot point but, of course, Grandma didn't know that. Upstairs, as we entered my room, Penny exclaimed. “Holy cow!!! I'd have given anything for a room like this when I was a little girl!”

But I was ashamed of it---so little girlie! I shut the door. As Penny explored my closet full of frilly, sissy concoctions, she gushed with envy. And I was even more embarrassed.

Before I realized it and could stop her, she tugged open the top drawer of my dresser---the drawer that contained my plastic diaper rhumba panties and a stack of Depends.

“Oh my God! What are these for?” She exclaimed, as she held up a pair of frilly diaper rhumba panties in one hand and a disposable in the other.

Now I was totally humiliated and started to cry. That was one secret I'd hoped to keep from her.

Seeing my distress, she grabbed a few tissues from the box on my vanity table and put her arm around me and walked me over to my bed. We sat down and she wiped my tears and said. “I'm sorry Steph. Please don't cry! Don't be embarrassed. I'm sure you're not the only kid our age who still has accidents sometimes!”

She seemed pretty understanding but I still sobbed and, in explanation, offered only. “I don't really have accidents! I gotta wear them when I'm out in public like at the Mall or out to dinner or at the movies. I can't use public restrooms.” And I sniffled and Penny took my hand. “My Grandma won't let me use the Ladies Room cuz I'm not really a girl and I can't use the Mens Room cuz I really look like a girl!”

Penny gave me a soft kiss on the cheek and asked. “You mean, if you're out in public and you gotta go to the bathroom, you gotta go in...umm...well...your...ah”

“Yeah!” I cut her off. “I gotta!” I was so ashamed. I buried my face in my hands.

“Oh, you poor thing!” She consoled. “That must be awful for you!”

“Yeah.” I pouted. “Tell me about it!”

“Are you wearing diapers now?” She asked.

“No, only in public where restrooms are off limits to me.”

“At my house?” Penny asked.

“No, cuz I can use your bathroom. It's private.”

“At school?” She asked.

I looked at her with tears streaming down my face. “Please don't tell anyone at school Penny! Please! I'd die!”

“Oh you silly boy, I mean GIRL!” She smiled and wiped my tears again. “I'd never say a word. I promise. You're my best friend. My very best girlfriend! It's our little secret.”

I hugged her and thanked her and managed to calm down a little bit. I knew all my secrets were safe with her. We positioned ourselves with our backs against the head board and cuddled and kissed passionately and necked for awhile.

After a bit, Penny brought up a new subject. “Steph, I really wanted to come up to your room for some privacy so I could ask you...well...why you want to be a girl!” And she cautioned. “But don't get me wrong Steph. I think it's great!!! Really! I'm just curious.”

“I don't WANT to be a girl!!!” I exclaimed. “But it's really a long and involved and horrifying and EMBARRASSING story Penny.”

“C'mon Stephie.” Penny coaxed and put her arm around me. “You gotta learn that best girlfriends share all their secrets. Even embarrassing ones. We got plenty of time and nothing to do and I'm all ears! You talk and I'll just listen.”

I must have shed a bucket of tears as I spent the better part of the next hour explaining in detail my journey from my first day at Camp Sissy Curls until now. And Penny was true to her word. She just lovingly listened and cuddled me as I sobbed and rambled on. It was actually very therapeutic for me.

When I was finally done, the first real words from Penny were. “Oh, you poor, poor thing! I'm so sorry! But, for what it's worth, I think you make a wonderful girl!!! And I'm glad for that!”

“Well, thanks.” I said and got up. “I wanna go wash up Penny. How about going down to the kitchen and getting us a couple of sodas?”

“Sure thing Steph.” She replied.

When I returned from the bathroom, Penny was back on my bed sipping her Coke. I snuggled up next to her and drank mine. As she fiddled with my ponytail, she asked. “Are you gonna be going back to Camp Sissy Curls this summer?”

“Hell no!!!” I emphatically answered. “Why do you ask?”

“The girl's camp next door that you mentioned---Camp Sunnyvale? My parents are thinking about sending me there this summer.”

Monday morning rolled around and it was back to school after the Easter break. Penny and I didn't wind up actually doing our report until Wednesday and it went pretty well. We got an A- on it and we were happy with that.

As April turned into May, Penny and I grew closer and closer. Friday night of the first week in May, Penny came over to my house to help me study for an important Algebra test on Monday. I was pretty mediocre with math but Penny was a wiz.

We studied together in my bedroom until about 9:00 and decided to call it quits for the night and relax until she had to go home. We sat on my bed and started thumbing through girl's magazines and, before long, found ourselves embracing and kissing and petting passionately. Though Penny would often reach her hand under the front of my skirt to play with me and I'd do likewise with the front of her blouse, our sexual relations never went beyond that. She was, after all, a good Catholic girl and certainly a virgin. I was “experienced” of course, but I had no desire to deflower her. Well---I did actually desire it, but I respected her and cared for her too much. And besides, we were both only thirteen.

We made out until a little before ten when there was a knock on my bedroom door, followed with an immediate entrance by Grandma.

“Okay Penny, I'll drive...” And Grandma gasped in mid sentence. “Oh my God! What are you two girls doing???”

Penny and I quickly disengaged, red with guilt and embarrassment.

“It's not what you must think Grandma!” I quickly offered.

“Don't you two girls know that homosexuality is banned by the church and is a mortal sin!” She exclaimed.

Penny covered her face and remained silent and started crying.

“Grandma,” and I took a deep breath knowing that I had to spill the beans, “we all know, all THREE of us, that this isn't a gay relationship!”

“Well, I suppose that settles the gay issue.” Grandma said. “But now your secret's out Stephanie!”

Penny spoke up in a whimper. “His secret is safe with me Mrs. Crandall. I promise!”

“It IS safe Grandma.” I added. “No one else knows, or will know, except the three of us.”

“Well, I don't know about all of this, but c'mon you two. Time to drive Penny home.” Grandma said.

After we dropped Penny off, Grandma said as we drove back home. “Are you totally sure that your secret's safe with Penny?”

“Yes, totally!!!” I assured.

“I certainly hope so!” Grandma said, and paused in thought and then added. “Well at least, she's not a Lesbian. Though it strikes me as rather odd that she'd be attracted to a boy disguised as a girl!”

“Aw, c'mon Grandma!” I scorned. “She likes me for who I am inside, underneath all this awful girlie stuff!”

“I'm sorry Steph.” Grandma apologized. “That was unkind of me. I am glad that underneath your girlie facade, you're still a true boy at heart and like girls as a boy would.”

“Of course I LIKE girls Grandma!” I exclaimed. “I just don't like BEING a girl!”

“Well, you know that will all end after this summer Steph.” She said and warned. “I just hope it all doesn't backfire on you and your secret gets out!”

“It won't. I know it won't!”

“And you better not LIKE Penny too much, if you know what I mean Stephie!” She added.

I laughed a little. “Don't worry about that. I understand.”

Thanks to Penny's algebra tutoring, the test on Monday seemed fairly easy. And sure enough, on Wednesday when I got the test back, I'd gotten an 87%---great for me.

Wednesday afternoon on the bus ride home, Penny asked a favor of me. Well actually both me and my Grandmother. “This Friday, right after school, my parents are taking my brother Brad to a soccer tournament out of town.” She said. “About a four hour ride from here. It involves spending most of the weekend there. Hotel and all that. Won't get back 'til late Sunday afternoon.”

“Oh, then I guess we can't do anything this weekend Penny.” I replied.

“Well, that's just it.” She said. “I hate going to the tournaments. So boring! I so do not wanna go!”

“I'd love that!” I smiled. “But I gotta get the okay from my Grandma. I'll ask her tonight and give you a call.”

“Thanks Steph! I hope she says it's alright.”

After dinner, while I helped Grandma with the supper dishes, I asked her if Penny could stay with us.

“Well, Penny's sure been a good friend to you Stephie.” She replied. “And since it's okay with her folks, it's okay with me.”

“Oh super! Thanks Grandma!” And I gave her a big hug.

“Yeah, but there's one condition sweetie.” She added.

I nodded my head yes. “Sure, what is it?”

“Penny will have to sleep in the guest bedroom.” She warned. “I mean, it's not like you're really two girls having a sleepover, so she can't sleep in your bedroom of course. And no hanky panky!”

I was a little embarrassed and giggled. “I understand Grandma. I knew she'd have to sleep in the spare bedroom.” And I kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks Grandma!” And I immediately called Penny with the good news.

Friday afternoon, a little before supper, Penny was dropped off for the weekend. After a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs, Penny and I really just spent most of the evening in the living room watching TV and playing Monopoly and gossiping and gabbing like two young girls would. Grandma sat in her recliner reading and doing a little crocheting.

Around 10:00PM, Grandma said. “Why don't you two get cleaned up and go to your rooms and get ready for bed.”

“But Grandma, it's only ten!!!” I pleaded.

“I'm not saying you have to go to bed girls. I know it's too early. Just get ready!” She replied.

“Okay Grandma.” I said and we both headed for our rooms.

“And I want both of you in modest nitegowns. And panties and bras underneath girls!” Grandma called, as we approached the stairs.

We were both embarrassed and giggled. Penny looked back and sincerely replied. “Yes, of course Mrs. Crandall. We understand. We will.”

Before long, we both returned to the living room, each in a modest flannel nitegown with panties and bras underneath. Though I certainly had no need for a bra. But Penny did!

I looked over at Grandma and she smiled and gave me the okay nod. Penny and I spent the next two hours sitting on the carpet watching TV and painting each other's fingernails and toenails and brushing and doing each other's hair. I even let Penny use styling gel to set my hair in rollers, covered with a hairnet, which I normally hated.

And Grandma spent most of the time with us in the living room. I'd look over at her, from time to time, to see her just smiling in an almost contented sort of way. And that struck me as a little odd. Twice, she had told me how she was glad that I was “still a boy at heart” underneath my feminine exterior. But she seemed just as equally pleased that I could be so truly girlish too, like I was now.

When Jay Leno ended, Grandma sent us on our way to bed. “I'll be up to bed shortly girls.” She said, as Penny and I walked upstairs.

Outside of my bedroom door, we stopped to say good night. Penny put her arms around my neck and gave me a long, passionate kiss. And then she giggled when she felt my very erect wiener against the front of her nitegown.

She gave it a good squeeze and warned, though lovingly, “I want you to leave your rollers in tonight Stephie!”

“Ohhh!!! Do I gotta???” Like most girls, I hated sleeping in rollers.

“Do it for me Steph!” And she rubbed my throbbing wiener some more and kissed me again and added. “I want to see how pretty you look in curls tomorrow.”

I couldn't argue and smiled. “Sure Penny!” And we both headed into our rooms.

It took me awhile to get to sleep with the uncomfortable rollers in my hair. But it was a small price to pay for Penny's affection.

I woke up just before ten Saturday morning. I brushed my teeth and headed downstairs, still in my rollers and nitegown. Penny, still in her nitegown too, was already up and busy helping Grandma in the kitchen making pancakes for breakfast.

“Morning sleepy head!” Grandma called, as I reached into the fridge for some orange juice.

“More like prickly head!” I moaned, as I patted my hairnet full of rollers. “I hate sleeping in rollers!”

“Oh, it's the price we girls have to pay to look pretty Steph!” Penny said. And she and Grandma giggled at the “we girls” part. But they were right! I was “one of the girls” to be sure. “I'll get you outta them after breakfast Steph.” Penny added. “Can't wait to see your pretty curls!”

With breakfast done and the dishes cleared, Penny and I sat on the carpet in the living room in front of the TV and she removed my rollers and combed out my head full of curls.

“Oh,” Penny gushed, “you look very pretty in curls Stephie!”

“She certainly does!” Grandma agreed, looking up from the morning newspaper she was reading on the sofa.

“What do you want to do today Penny?” I asked, as Penny ran her fingers through my fresh curls.

We went back and forth through the usual routine of “I don't know. What do you want to do?”

Finally, Penny suggested. “I know, let's play dressup!”

“What do you mean by dressup?” I asked.

“Well, you have such gorgeous, frilly, prissy dresses and petticoats and all Steph! Let's each dress up in one and pretend we're seven or eight years old again! Like we're going to a birthday party or something.” She said and added. “We're about the same size. I could easily fit into one!”

“Oh, I hate those sissy outfits Penny! Maybe it's been a long time since you've been dressed like that but I've spent most of the past year in those sissy clothes!” I replied.

“Aw, c'mon Steph. It'll be fun!” She pleaded. “And you won't be the only sissy little girl this time!”

I looked over to Grandma and raised my eyebrows, hoping she'd solve the problem by NOT giving the go ahead. But instead, she said. “It's okay with me girls. But you'll have to get into your dresses and underthings, at least, by yourselves in your own rooms. I mean...well, you know why.”

We did, of course. No reprieve from Grandma though.

“C'mon Steph.” And Penny stood up and reached down and took my hand. “Let's pick some pretty outfits and things from your closet. It'll be loads of fun to be pretty little girls again!”

Maybe for you, I thought, but I saw no thrill in it. It was “old hat” to me.

Standing in front of my closet, Penny immediately zeroed in on my matching pink and blue gingham dresses. “These will be perfect Stephie!” She beamed. “I'll wear the pink and, well...blue is for boys!” And she giggled. “We'll be almost like little twin sisters!”

I groaned a bit as she handed me the hanger with the blue one on it. Then Penny grabbed several hangers full of frothy petticoats.

“We want our dresses to be nice and full!” She exclaimed. And then she headed for my dresser and selected the prissiest pink and blue trimmed rhumba panties I had. And she handed the blue to me.

“Okay Steph. I'm gonna get into these.” She said, as she headed out my bedroom door. “See you in a few minutes. And don't forget to put on a training bra Steph!”

Five minutes later, I heard a knock on my door. “Can I come in?” Penny called. “Are you decent?”

“Yup, c'mon in.” And I opened the door.

We spent the better part of the next hour primping each other and finishing our “little girl” dressup. Anklets to match our very full dresses, patent leather Maryjanes, matching purses, makeup, lipstick, fresh nailpolish, perfume, earrings and necklaces. The whole “girlie” nine yards.

Now, only our hair needed to be tended to. Penny sat me in the chair in front of my vanity table and used a couple of bobby pins to pin my long hair back behind my ears in a cascade of pretty curls that now reached to well below my shoulders. Then she tied a large, blue gingham hairbow on top.

“Okay Steph, you look scrumptious!” She exclaimed. “We'll trade places and you can do my hair and we'll be all set.”

She sat in the chair and I stood behind her and said. “Believe it or not, I don't know much about doing girl's hair. I mean...what do you want me to do???”

She grinned into the mirror and replied. “I know one hairstyle you're quite good at doing Steph!!!”

“Oh c'mon Penny!” I laughed. “Not braid loops again!”

“Yeth, pwetty pwease Stephie!” She babbled and stuck out her bottom lip like a VERY little girl.

Braid loops were a painstaking and time consuming thing to do, but finally I tied a pink gingham hairbow in both of her loops and we headed downstairs.

As Grandma vacuumed the carpet in the living room, two very pretty and prissy and precocious little girls sashayed in. Dresses and petticoats bouncing and bobbing like crazy.

She looked up and gave a broad smile and shut off the machine. “Oh my goodness gracious! Who can these two pretty little girls be???”

“It's us Mithesses Cwandle! Stephie and Penny!” Penny bubbled, in her best little girl lisp. She was really playing the “widdle girl” thing to the hilt. Funny, I thought. What I really hated with a passion, she revelled in!

Penny and I spent the rest of the morning mostly just prancing about, little girlishly, in our pretty dresses and petticoats. And Penny was loving every minute of it. At one point, she even wanted to go outside to play Hop Scotch, of all things. But fortunately, I was able to talk her out of that. I had no desire to be hopping about outside showing off my petticoats and rhumba panties to the neighborhood.

After lunch, Grandma said she had to do some shopping errands and she'd have to take us along. “Why don't you two go upstairs and change into your regular clothes and we'll get going.” She said.

“Aw, c'mon Penny!” I quickly replied. “I've had enough of these sissy clothes!”

Penny frowned. “Pwease!!!”

I looked at Grandma and she at me and she said with a little smile. “I've missed having sweet little eight year old Stephie around! I'd enjoy taking two pretty little girls out shopping with me. No one would be the wiser. We won't be shopping here in town.”

“Umph!” I groaned. “I really don't wanna Penny, but I will on one condition.”

“Sure Steph, what?” She said with a smile.

“You gotta give a rest to the widdle girl whisp!” I said mockingly.

“Will do Steph. Thanks!” Penny replied.

“Umm!” Grandma said. “Stephie, we're going to be out in public. So you gotta...well...you know...”

“Yeah, I know!” I groaned again. And I headed up to my room and diapered up.

Just as we were about to leave, Penny stopped us. “I gotta use the bathroom first please. Sorry, be right back!” And she raced upstairs, petticoats bouncing and bobbing all about her.

It was a wise idea, I thought, only though.

A few minutes later she returned and we were on our way.

“I need to go to the Mall just down the Interstate for a few things and then to Jo-Ann Fabrics in the town nearby for some yarn.” Grandma said, as we drove along. “And then we'll get some dinner there.”

I cringed as Penny and I held hands and sashayed into the Mall. We headed for JC Penney, where Grandma had to pick up somehing she had ordered. And we got lots and lots of looks and attention and smiles as we pranced along. But they were all pleasant, admiring looks at the two precious, pretty little girls walking along with their grandmother. Ladies just oogled and gushed all over us as we waited in line at customer service for Grandma's order at JC Penney.

We hit Rite Aid, then Sears to look at vacuum cleaners, then just window shopped in dress boutiques for awhile. Fortunately, we didn't try on or buy anything. And wherever we went, women just fawned all over me and Penny in our pretty, little girl dresses and petticoats. And Grandma, and Penny especially, were enjoying the admiration. I could have done without it though.

Finally, Grandma suggested that we head for the Food Court for something to drink and then into town for Jo-Ann Fabrics and then dinner.

The Food Court was packed. No place to sit, so we just stood and sipped on the straws of our drinks. After a minute or so, Grandma pointed to a table not very far away and said. “Oh look, that's Mrs. Chamberlain from church! Are you girls okay here, if I go over and say hi and ask her something about our Bible study group?”

“Sure!” Penny and I both replied in unison.

As soon as she left, two boys about our age wandered over toward us. They hemmed and hawed a bit before finally approaching. The taller one spoke. “Hi girls! I'm Bill and this is Nate. You girls from around here?”

“No we're not.” Penny replied, while I remained silent, staring at the floor. “I'm Penny, this is Stephie.”

I didn't look up and just mumbled “Hi.”

“I didn't think you were.” Bill said. And he must have felt bolder and added. “You girls are really cute! But are you really LITTLE girls??? I mean, you somehow seem older than you're dressed.”

Penny giggled and confessed. “You're right! We're just having fun playing dressup. We're both thirteen.”

“We're both fourteen.” Nate said. And before I realized what he was doing, Nate reached his hand up under the back of my dress and petticoats and patted me on my bum.

“Oh stop that!!!” I squealled, swatting his hand.

As they ran off, I heard Nate say to Bill. “God, they're really playing dressup! She's in diapers I think!”

He was right, of course. But more so than he knew, because now I was in wet diapers! Like often happened when I was surprised or shocked or scared, his intrusion into my privates had caused me to wet myself, though thankfully not heavily. And I started to tear up.

“Oh Steph! Are you okay?” Penny asked, as she ran her hand along my cheek.

“Yeah, but I..ah...I wet my diapers a little.” I whispered. “That happens sometimes when I scared or surprised.”

“Are you leaking?” She asked softly.

“No, I just peed a little. I'll be okay.”

“Well, remember Steph. You're not alone in all of this!” Penny comforted.

Penny took a tissue from her purse and dried my tears. And Grandma returned. We said nothing about our encounter with those two awful boys to Grandma. As we headed out the Mall for the parking lot, I whispered in Penny's ear. “Do I smell like pee?”

“No, not at all.” She whispered back. “You're fine.”

We drove into town to Jo-Ann Fabrics. The women there really had a field day with me and Penny. I mean, we looked like models or poster girls for all the little girl dress patterns and girlish fabrics in the store! Grandma and Penny seemed to relish in it all. But not me! I was glad when Grandma checked out with her yarn and other stuff.

“It's 5:30 girls. Let's get some dinner and then home.” Grandma said, as Penny and I sat in two huge “poufs” of petticoats in the back seat of the car.

We headed down the Main Street of town and Grandma exclaimed. “Look, there's a Perkins. Let's go there for dinner.”

I sighed. Ms Roberts had taken me there for lunch on the second or third day at camp--my first outing in public as a little girl in a dress and petticoats and ribbons and curls. And I squeezed Penny's hand extra hard.

As we stood in line for a table, I thought again about what a wise idea it was when Penny had gone to the bathroom just before we left the house earlier. I now wished I had followed suit.

We finally got a table and I sat in the booth next to Penny, squirming and fidgeting from the ever increasing pressure in my kidneys and bowels. I was already slightly wet. Now I feared I'd soon be much wetter and worse!

The waitress gave us each a menu. And Grandma excused herself to head for the Ladies Room. How I wished I could go with her! I so didn't want to suffer the humiliation of messing my diapers in front of Penny.

Before Grandma returned, the waitress came back with glasses of water and looked down at me and Penny and said. “Are you two girls from Camp Sissy...” And then she paused for a moment in thought and said, really just to herself. “No, can't be. They don't open for the season for another month or so.” And she walked away.

It was then that I realized she looked looked familiar. She was the waitress who had waited on me and Ms Roberts last summer.

Grandma came back from the Ladies Room and we ordered dinner. And I fidgeted and squirmed throughout the meal, fighting with Mother Nature once more. It didn't take long for Grandma to notice my anxiety. “What's wrong Stephie? Are you alright?” She asked.

With a shameful tear in my eye, I fessed up. “I gotta go real bad Grandma!” I said in a hush.

“You mean you gotta...”

“Yeah, I gotta! And soon!” I interrupted her.

She reached into her purse and pulled out the car keys and handed them to me. “Well, you're done with your dinner Steph. Head out to the car while Penny and I finish up and pay the check.”

“Okay girls.” Grandma said. “Try to hold out if you can 'til we get home Stephie.”

I knew I couldn't but didn't say so. As soon as Penny and I reached the car, I exploded into my diapers. And I pushed myself away from Penny and started to bawl in shame and embarrassment. It was so humiliating to wet and poop my diapers in front of the girl of my dreams.

Penny fanned her nose and kept her distance and said nothing. She just stood there as I sobbed and I covered my face with my hands.

A moment later, I was surprised by the sound of a loud fart. And it wasn't from me. I took my hands from my face to see Penny standing there biting her lower lip and grunting. And a few moments later, she sighed with a look of relief on her face. And I smelled that awful poo smell. But it wasn't mine.

Now I fanned my nose and exclaimed. “What in the Hell did you just do Penny???”

“I told you that you weren't alone in all this!” She said. “I just wet and pooped myself too. Now you don't have to be embarrassed!”

“But Penny! I got diapers on at least! You'll make a real mess!”

“No I won't Steph.” She assured. “I'm wearing diapers too!”

“What???” I cried.

“When I went up to the bathroom just before we left, I sneaked into your bedroom instead and put on three disposables and a pair of your plastic diaper rhumba panties like you.” She explained. “So you wouldn't be alone, just in case this happened.”

“Oh my God Penny! I can't believe you'd do that for me!” And I really started to cry even more.

“Well I love you Stephen!” She cried. “It was just my stupid way of trying to protect you, I guess.”

“Oh Penny! I'd hug you if we both weren't so damn stinky!!!”

She giggled and wiped her tears. And so did I. And Grandma soon met us at the car. She joined in the “nose fanning” and remarked. “Boy Steph, sorry but you really stink!” She clicked open the door locks and said. “We'll open all the windows. You better sit up front with me Penny.”

God bless her for sitting in the back with me, but Penny wasn't stupid. If she sat up front, Grandma would smell her and surely realize that she had wet and pooped herself too. And Penny wouldn't want to have to explain that. But to Grandma, the smell coming from the back seat could only be from me.

With the windows cranked wide open, we quickly drove home. Penny and I held hands and immediately dashed upstairs to our rooms. I gave Penny a plastic bag for her messy diapers and let her go first in the bathroom to get cleaned up. I was a gentleman, after all. Then it was my turn.

Around 9:00, two very contrite and very clean and sweet smelling girls walked downstairs in their flannel nite gowns. Penny and I sat on the carpet in front of the TV and I took out her braid loops and brushed her hair. And she mine. And Grandma crocheted on the sofa. And I longed to just snuggle and cuddle with the girl who had just gone through “diaper hell” for me.

Penny and I made it an early night. We excused ourselves to go to bed a little after eleven. We were both beat.

Outside our bedroom doors, I hugged her and whispered in her ear. “Thank you Penny. I can't believe you did that awful thing for me!”

She kissed my neck and whispered back. “Yeah, it WAS awful! Really gross! I don't know how you can stand it.” Then she looked me in the eyes. “But I did it because I love you Stephen!”

I started to tear up. It was the second time tonight that she had called me Stephen. And the second time she told me she loved me. And she wiped my tears and giggled lovingly. “C'mon Stephie, don't cry. Be a man!”

I giggled back. “Yeah right!” And I kissed her and whispered. “I love you too Penny.”

Despite the harrowing trip this day, I slept like a baby, figuratively speaking. Sunday morning, Penny and I went to church, dressed normally, with Grandma. And a little after 2:00PM, Penny's folks picked her up. And by supper time, I was missing her already.

Over the next few weeks, Penny and I encountered a bit of a snag with seeing each other and getting together, outside of school at least, on the weekends. Penny's next door neighbor, whose nine year old twins she sometimes babysat, had to work at least four Saturdays and Sundays in a row while her boss was laid up from some knee surgery. Penny was glad for the work and the money it paid. But it pretty much threw a monkey wrench into any plans for us to do something on weekends for awhile.

But Penny was undaunted. The Monday after her second babysitting weekend, she said to me at school. “I'm sorry we haven't been able to spend any time together on the weekends for awhile. I really miss being with you darling, outside of here at school!”

“Me too Penny!” And I smiled at the use of her word “darling”.

“Well, I asked Mrs. Morris, the next door neighbor I babysit for, if it would be okay if you came over sometimes while I'm babysitting her twins. And she said it would be okay!” And Penny put her hand on my shoulder and said. “My Mom told her what good friends we are and what a fine, responsible girl you are and Mrs. Morris gave the go ahead.”

“Sure, great Penny!” I replied.

“Super Steph! Then please try to come over sometime this upcoming weekend???” She begged.

“Definitely DARLING!” I said, and Penny beamed a big smile to me.

The next day at school, I told Penny that my Grandmother had said that I could spend the day on Saturday helping her babysit. And Penny was thrilled.

Saturday morning dawned sunny and warm. June was fast approaching and Spring was very much in the air. “Can I please walk to Penny's next door neighbor's house Grandma?” I asked, as we ate breakfast. “It's beautiful out and it's really not that far. And it's daytime.” And I added, in support of my request. “And the exercise will be good for me! And it saves you the hassle of driving me there and picking me up!”

Grandma laughed at my salesmanship. “Well, I guess it'd be okay Steph. But there's one condition!”

I had a fair idea of what was coming and asked. “What Grandma?”

“You gotta wear diapers and plastic pants under your skirt Steph.”

“Oh, Grandma! Please no! I'll be fine!” I argued.

“You're gonna be out in public sweetie.” She warned. “And after what happened a few weeks ago at Perkins, you can't take any chances. Use the toilet at the house of course, but you need the diapers as a back up, if necessary. Like walking to and from.”

I hated to admit it, but I knew she was right. “Okay Grandma. I understand. I will.”

Around eleven, after I was ready, I asked Grandma if I could be on my way. She looked at me and smiled, noting the modest petticoat under my skirt, like I wore to school to hide my diaper bulge. She patted my rear end to feel my padding and I blushed and said. “I'm protected Grandma!”

“That's my girl!” She exclaimed. And diapers were a small price to pay to spend time with Penny. And besides, it was really no different for me than going to school each day.

Grandma kissed me and sent me on my way. “You'll be home before dark Steph. Right?”

“Definitely. Love ya Gram!” I called back, as I walked out the front door.

About twenty minutes later, I knocked on the front door of Penny's neighbor. Penny opened the door and smiled and said. “Hi Steph, c'mon in. I'm so glad you could come over!”

I stepped inside and Penny walked me to the family room, where two little girls were sitting on the floor playing “Candy Land”. One girl reminded me a lot of my stepsister Laura---dressed very “Tomboyishly” in dungarees and a simple top and scruffy, worn sneakers and unkempt long, blond hair. And the other girl was the exact opposite. Her blond hair was in short pigtails tied with pale blue ribbons that matched her prissy, knee length “Alice in Wonderland” style dress. Lots of white petticoats made the dress nice and full. Blue lace trimmed anklets and black, patent leather Maryjanes adorned her feet. And her face was red. She looked like she'd been crying. Neither girl looked up from the game board to notice me standing there with Penny in the doorway.

Penny and I stepped back from the entrance and I whispered to her. “I knew you were babysitting twins. But I thought you told me they were a girl and a boy!”

“That's right Steph!!!” Penny said, as she raised her eyebrows.

“What do you mean Penny?” I asked.

“Come into the family room and I'll introduce you to them.” And Penny took my hand and walked me into the room.

“Oh kids, c'mon over and let me introduce you to my best friend Stephie, who I told you was coming over.” Penny called to them.

The “Tomboy” raced over to us and stood in front of me looking up with a big smile. “Alice in Wonderland” stood up very tentatively and carefully, and smoothed her dress over her mountains of petticoats and slowly approached. Her eyes were cast downward toward the floor.

Penny introduced the “Tomboy” first. “Maggie, this is Stephie. Stephie, this is Maggie.”

“Hi Stephie!” Maggie said. “Are you gonna help Penny babysit us?”

“Well, I guess so Maggie.” I told her.

And I looked over to “Alice” and Penny took the cue and said. “Steph, this is Michael.” And she paused and kind of corrected herself. “Well, he's actually called Michelle when he's dressed up like this.”

I gasped and Michael/Michelle just kept his very red face firmly glued to the floor and said nothing. I could see tears starting to trickle down his cheeks.

Maggie took over. “Say hi to Stephie. Greet her properly like I taught you Michelle!” She ordered her brother.

He just shook his downcast head “no”.

“Do it Michael, I mean Michelle! Or I'll tell all the kids at school about the pretty dress and petticoats and pigtails and everything else you're wearing!!!” Maggie threatened.

He looked up at me sobbing and bit his lower lip and very awkwardly curtseyed to me and said. “Hello Stephie. It's very nice to meet you. Isn't my dress pretty?” And he gave it a little twirl and then immediately hung his head in shame toward the floor again.

“Good girl Michelle!!!” Maggie devilishly giggled. “But I think you need more time practicing your curtsies!” And Maggie pointed toward a large mirror in the hallway and ordered her petticoated brother. “Go stand in front of the mirror and practice curtseying some more until I say you can stop.”

“Please Maggie!!!” Not again!” He begged.

“If I tell everyone at school about the pretty dress and petticoats and stuff you're dressed in, maybe Mom will let you wear them to school Michelle!” Maggie replied.

The very dejected boy said nothing and walked to the mirror and started curtseying in front of it, with a torrent of tears now streaming down his face.

I don't know why, but I was dumbstruck. Strange because, after all, I certainly had suffered the same type of girlish humiliation that Michael was now experiencing. And much more! For that matter, I was still experiencing it now, but to a lesser extent.

Penny sensed my perplexion and said. “Maggie, why don't you go back in the family room and watch cartoons. I want to explain about your brother to Stephie.” And Maggie headed for the TV.

“C'mon into the kitchen Steph and I'll explain, as best I can.” And Penny took my hand and called back to Maggie. “Please don't make your brother stand there curtseying too long Maggie!”

As we sat down at the kitchen table, I said. “What on Earth is goin' on here Penny! I can't believe it!”

“Yeah, tell me about it Steph!” And she giggled a bit. “Apparently you're not the only petticoated boy in my life now. I was just as surprised as you when I got here earlier this morning. Imagine my shock when I knocked on the door and Michael answered it dressed as you see him now.”

“Yeah, I'll bet.” I said.

“He let me in and said good morning and curtseyed to me . And his face was beet red and swollen with tears.” Penny said and added. “And my jaw dropped.”

“So why's he Michelle now? Or maybe I should say ALICE now!”

“Well, Mrs. Morris was on her way to work and couldn't spend a lot of time giving me all the details.” Penny answered. “But Maggie filled me in a lot after she left.”

“Okay, so what gives?” I asked.

“Well both of the twins can be a real handful. I often have trouble keeping control over them when I babysit. But Michael's the worst, and I guess he's a real terror in school too! But Maggie's no angel either! She loves to tease Michael just to see if she can get him in trouble. And she usually succeeds.”

“Yeah. Well anyways, apparently the two of them got into a big fight over something last night just before bedtime and Michael punched Maggie real hard in the face. Her left cheek's still pretty swollen. I guess between his awful behavior at school and here at home, Mrs. Morris decided on drastic measures to keep Michael in line.”

“Yeah, I know all about drastic measures to keep boys in line Penny!”

“I know you can certainly relate to all of this Steph.” And she caressed my cheek and took a deep breath. “But anyhow, Mrs. Morris gave him a good spanking and sent him to bed wearing a pair of Maggie's panties and one of her night gowns. And she dressed him up like Alice in Wonderland this morning. You can see she even managed to get his rather long hair tied up into little pigtails and ribbons too! And he has to spend the entire weekend like that!”

“Oh God, poor kid!” I ruminated. “I know, I've sure been there!”

“What's even worse for Michael is, Mrs. Morris put Maggie in charge of him, so to speak. She told me that before she left. I guess to heighten his punishment.”

“You're kidding???” I said.

“No!” Penny exclaimed. “She told me that Michael has to obey Maggie and do whatever she says. Well---within reason!”

“I see nothing reasonable about any of this!” I scorned.

“Well, Maggie can't parade him around outside in his dress and petticoats and pigtails or have her friends over to see him or...” And Penny thought a moment and rolled her eyes and smirked. “Or make him eat dog crap! Stuff like that!”

I couldn't help but laugh at her last very extreme example and then asked. “Can she spank him?”

“Yeah, you're right Steph. I won't.” And she got up and added. “But Maggie can tease the hell out of him and, as you've already seen, she can make him do all kinds of humiliating and girlish things. I know she'll try to make the most of it. She'll really put him through his girlie paces!”

I got up too and Penny and I headed for the family room. As we passed the busily curtseying Michael, he looked back over his shoulder, sobbing, and begged. “Please ask Maggie if I can stop now!!!”

“I understand Michael. We will.” I replied.

Penny and I really just pretty much plain told Maggie to let him stop.

And Maggie clicked off the TV and shouted toward the hallway. “Okay Michelle, if you think you can do a decent girlie curtsey now, you can stop!”

A moment later, the pathetic, petticoated boy joined us in the family room.

He shamefully hung his head, took hold of the sides of his dress and petticoats in his fingers, and pretty gracefully and girlishly curtseyed.

“That-a-girl Michelle!” Maggie cheered. “Much better!”

Maggie was loving every minute of his girlish torment and told him. “Now do it one more time Michelle. Only this time, I want you to say --MY NAME'S MICHELLE AND I'M A PRETTY LITTLE GIRL-- when you do it.”

“No!!! I won't!” He shouted.

“Well, then maybe you'd prefer to say it at school dressed in your pretty, sissy outfit!” Maggie warned. “I bet I can talk Mom into sending you there all dressed up like you are now!”

I couldn't imagine that Mrs. Morris would really send him to school all dressed up. But apparently, he believed it was a possibility. And who knew, maybe he was right.

Michael defiantly stomped his foot in frustration. But then he slowly reached for the sides of his dress and petticoats again and mumbled as he curtseyed. “My name's Michelle and I'm a pretty little girl.”

“What did you say Michelle?” Maggie sarcastically asked. “I didn't hear you. You were mumbling. Do it again!”

She did leave him alone, but not for long! Because less than half an hour later, Michael was sitting on the family room floor in his heap of petticoats, busily fumbling with a bottle of candy pink nailpolish. Struggling to paint his fingernails under the direction and supervision of Maggie. And he struggled even more with the matching pink lipstick that came next.

“Penny, don't you gotta feed them lunch!” I finally said. “And put him out of his misery for awhile!”

“Yeah Steph, good idea.”

Michael did get almost an hour break from his sissy humiliation, as the twins lunched on grilled cheese sandwhiches that Penny and I made for them. With lunch over, Penny sent them back to the family room. “Why don't you two go play a video game while Stephie and I do up the dishes. And please don't torment your brother anymore Maggie!”

It took just a few minutes to wash the dishes and we were sooned headed back to the twins. But no video game sounds were heard as we neared the family room---only the sound of whimpering. We stepped in and saw Michael standing in the center of the room. He was bent over and was holding the back of his dress and petticoats up, fully displaying the very frilly, ruffled powder blue rhumba panties he was wearing. Maggie was seated on the couch, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh geez Maggie!” Penny gasped. “Give him a break!” And she told Michael to put his dress down.

“Thank you.” He whimpered.

“But little girls like Michelle love to show off their pretty panties!” Maggie argued. “And besides, my Mom said he has to do what I tell him. And I think he needs a good spanking too!”

“Well this is just too outrageous Maggie!” Penny scolded. “And you're not going to spank him. I don't care what your mother might have told you.”

Now Maggie stomped her feet, and stood up and cried. “Oh poop! I don't need a nap! Do I gotta??”

“Yup! You gotta!” Penny said and fibbed. “Your mom said the both of you need naps this afternoon.”

She very begrudgingly obeyed. And as she headed for her bedroom, she said. “But Michelle's not to take off his dress and things!”

“Okay Maggie.” Penny conceded.

“I'll take Michael up to his room, okay Penny?” I asked.

“Sure, good idea Steph. Thanks.”

I sat down on his bed with him and put my arms around his shoulders. “I know that all of this has gotta be really awful for you Michael!”

“How would you know!” He moaned. “You're a girl. How could you know what it's like to be a boy all dressed up like this?”

I smiled a little. “Well, trust me, I think I can imagine what it's like. Now try to get some rest Michael.” And I had to muster up a lot of grit to do it because was a boy, but I leaned over and gave him a little kiss on his forehead in comfort.

I got up and walked to the door and Michael said. “Thanks Stephie.” And then, to my surprise, he added. “You're a very pretty girl Stephie. And you smell good too!!!”

I just giggled a little as I closed the door behind me to go back downstairs. If only he knew, I thought.

Penny and I sat at the kitchen table, glad for a break from the twins. As she poured us each a glass of OJ, I said. “Wow! That poor boy!”

“Yeah, I know Steph. But it's really out of our hands!”

“Do you think his mom would really send him to school all dressed up?” I asked. “I mean, rotten little Maggie is sure using that threat to get him to do all the humiliating things she tells him to do!”

“Oh, probably not. Well---at least I hope not!” She sighed. “But then again, I guess you never know. I mean no offense, but look what your parents did to you!”

“None taken, I understand what you mean.” I assured her. “So where did Michael's dress and stuff come from?” I asked. “Maggie seems like such a Tomboy. I can't imagine it's her's!”

“Well, actually it is Maggie's!” Penny replied. “Though she wouldn't be caught dead in it now.” And she took a sip of her juice. “Last January, Maggie had the starring role in their school play---'Alice in Wonderland'---and she was Alice. But she only wore it for the play. Never since.”

Penny and I enjoyed almost an hour of peace, before the twins were back downstairs from their naps. And Maggie was soon back at it with her brother, forcing him to play dolls with her. He sobbed as he dressed, undressed, and redressed one Barbie Doll after another.

It was just after four o'clock. And I'd had enough of reliving petticoat punishment through Michael.

“I need to get going Penny.” I said.

“Aw, stay awhile longer Steph.” She said. “Mrs. Morris will be home soon and I'll be done here for today.”

“I'm sorry Penny but I have to get home in time for dinner.” I fibbed a little.

“Well thanks for coming over.” And Penny smiled at me. “You were a big help! Will you come back tomorrow?”

“I can't Penny.” And now I was outright telling a lie, pretty much. “Got church in the morning and Grandma has plans for us in the afternoon. But will you call me tomorrow night, after babysitting?”

“Sure Steph. I'll walk you out.”

I felt guilty about lying, as we walked for the front door. But I really couldn't take any more of the humiliation Michael was suffering. It was too close to home for me. At the door, I stopped and said. “You know, I think I should use the bathroom before I head home. Where is it?”

Penny pointed. “Just down the hallway there. On your left.” And she giggled a little and whispered. “No diapers today sweetheart?”

“Oh yeah.” I whispered back. “But I want to be sure to keep them clean and dry.”

“Smart thinking Steph. I'll call you tomorrow night.” And she looked over her shoulder to see that the coast was clear and kissed me and whispered in my ear. “Thanks for coming over. I love you Stephie!”

Penny was, not surprising, true to her word. Sure enough, Sunday night, the phone rang and I answered.

“Hi Penny, how'd babysitting go today?” I asked.

“Oh, okay I guess.” She said with a little moan. “But not as good as yesterday when you were there! You were a big help!”

“Well I don't know about that Penny, but thanks.”

“I mean it Steph. It really helped having you there. Kids always seem to listen to and respond better to males.”

I really had a good laugh at that one. “But Penny, to the twins I'm a GIRL!!! Just like you!”

She giggled a little. “Yeah, I know Steph. But still, just having a male presence around...well, maybe subconsciously for them...umm...oh, I don't know what I mean!!!”

I just laughed again and Penny added. “I'm serious darling! I bet you'd be great with children of our...ah, I mean...your own.”

There was a pregnant pause while I regrouped and moved us along on a slightly different path. “I assume Michael was still Michelle or Alice in Wonderland or whoever!”

“Oh yeah. His petticoat punishment ends tomorrow when he goes to school. It was just for this weekend, I hope!”

“Me too!” And I asked. “Was Maggie still the Wicked Witch of the West?”

“Oh God yes!” She exclaimed. “She was just as merciless with him as yesterday, maybe even more so.”

“Like how?” And I immediately regretted my question. Did I really want to know???

“Well, lots of stuff like yesterday. Curtsey practice in front of the mirror. Holding up the back of his dress and petties. Making him say really humiliating things. Lots of threats about telling the kids at school.”

“That little bitch...ah, sorry Penny! Pardon my French.”

“But that's not the half of it Steph. She kicked things up a notch!”

“What do you mean?” Dumb question again on my part, I thought.

“Well, let's see...” And she paused for a moment in thought. “I came into the family room after cleaning up from lunch and found him standing on his head, with Maggie holding his legs for balance. You can imagine the spectacle he made!”

“I'm trying not to.” I replied.

“Um...oh, she gave him her script from 'Alice in Wonderland' and made him act out some of the scenes from it. He was Alice, of course.”

“That rotten little Mad Hatter!” I said.

She giggled at my little quip. “Oh...and she wouldn't let him walk at all. She made him skip everywhere he went around the house. Just like a very little girl might.” And she took a deep breath and continued. “And about an hour before Mrs. Morris got home, Maggie sat him at the kitchen table and propped a makeup mirror in front of him so he could watch and she took out his pigtails and ribbons and set his hair in small pink rollers. His hair was just long enough to wind several dozen into it.”

“You're kidding Penny! That little monster!!!”

“I wish I was kidding. And Michael really threw a fit over having his hair set.”

“I don't blame him!” I said. “I hate rollers!”

“Yeah, I know how you hate wearing rollers in your hair Steph!” She replied with a little laugh. “Anyway, Michael just wouldn't stop complaining and arguing, so Maggie stuck a bar of soap in his mouth to shut him up and made him keep it there while she set his hair. And he finally settled down to his fate when she threatened to talk their mother into giving him a home permanent, so he'd have sausage curls and ringlets that would last for months!”

“Oh God Penny!” I yelled in frustration. “Why in the Hell didn't you stop her???”

Penny became defensive and upset. “I tried too Steph!!! I really did!!!” And she started to cry and moaned. “Being petticoated made Michael pretty obedient and easy to control. But his punishment turned Maggie into Ivan the Terrible!”

I laughed at her analogy, though I knew she didn't make it to be funny. She wasn't in a laughing mood at all now, so I backed off. “Listen Penny, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I really am!”

I heard her sniffle. “Oh, that's okay Stephie. I should have done more to stop her. It just would have been a lot easier if you had been there!!!”

Guilt trip time, I thought. Though now I felt that I probably deserved it. After all, Penny was always so wonderful to me...so kind and loving and helpful and giving!

“Michael's petticoat punishment ends tomorrow, right Penny?” I asked.

“Yes sweetheart!” And her voice sounded a little more perky.

“So he's back to normal next weekend???”

“Yes darling!!” She gleefully chirpped, sensing where I was headed. “So long as he behaves himself.”

“And next weekend's your last work weekend, right HONEYBUNCH??” I mocked in jest.

“That's right SNOOKUMS!!!” She laughed.

I could almost see her grinning, pouty face through the phone. And I gave in. “Well CUPCAKE!!! I'll get my Grandma to let me help you babysit. I'll beg her if I have to!”

“Oh yes!!! Thank you. Thank you so much Steph!!!”

“That's okay Penny. You've sure helped me out a lot!”

And we had a lull in the conversation and I seized the opportunity. “Well, I still got a little algebra homework to finish up for school tomorrow Penny. I better go.”

“I'm glad you're keeping up with your algebra Steph. I'll see you on the bus tomorrow morning.” And she giggled. “I love you HONEYPIE!”

“I love you too...umm...ahh...oh, I can't come up with anything else! I'll see you tomorrow Penny.” And I hung up the phone.

Later that night, as I laid in bed, I thought about our phone conversation and chuckled to myself. I was thinking, odd as it might sound, about “puppy love”. I was familiar with the term from some stupid old song I'd heard and was even humming it over and over in my mind.

Penny really loved me and I truly felt the same way about her. But we were kids! Both just shy of our fourteenth birthdays. But Penny often acted as if we were ten years older. I knew girls matured faster than boys. But in terms of our relationship, I thought I was the more mature one. More mature, in the sense that I figured it had to be just puppy love. And I didn't think Penny was mature enough to see it that way. But I did so love all the puppy love!!!

On the bus ride to school Tuesday morning, I asked Penny. “Anything up with Michael? You seen him at all?”

“Yeah, I saw him and Maggie out waiting for their bus this morning, and yesterday morning too. And he was back to being 'Michael' again.” And she laughed. “Though his hair was a little curlier than usual!”

“I'll bet.” I replied.

“And last evening, he was out in his driveway shooting baskets and he looked like normal.” She added.

“Well that's good Penny.”

As the school week went by, I periodically asked Penny about the status of Michael. I very much did not want to help babysit two twin GIRLS again on the weekend.

On the Friday morning bus ride to school, I again asked her. “Is Michael still Michael?”

“Yup! As far as I know. Michael, and I do mean MICHAEL, was out in his yard playing last night.” She said. “Though I didn't see either him or Maggie out waiting for their bus this morning.”

That afternoon, as the bus pulled up to Penny's house, I said. “See you in the morning Penny.”

“Yup!” She said, as she got up. And she smiled down at me. “Thanks so much again for helping me babysit the twins this weekend. I'm really glad you're gonna be there!”

“That's okay Penny. See yah then.”

Midmorning on Saturday, I knocked on the Morris' front door.

Penny opened the door and I stepped inside. Maggie was standing next to her. “Hi Steph, c'mon in. I'm glad you're here.” Penny said, with a glum look on her face.

And before she could get another word out, Maggie piped in. “Hi Stephie, Michelle's in the family room in his playpen! C'mon.” And Maggie sounded quite pleased to tell me this.

I looked at Penny in disbelief. “Michelle...playpen!!! God, what's up now Penny?”

She groaned. “A picture's worth a thousand words Steph. See for yourself.”

I walked into the family room to find a playpen set up in the middle of it. And sitting in the middle of the playpen was Michael. He was whimpering.

I couldn't see his face. It was hung downward in shame. And the frilly pink baby bonnet he was wearing hid most of it anyway. But I could make out the pink binkie he was busily su-king on. The pacifier had a pink ribbon that was attached to the front of the ultra prissy and frilly pink baby dress he was wearing. It had puffed sleeves, was embellished with lots of lace trim and ruffles, and its skirt was quite short. A mass of white, stiff net petticoats made the skirt very full. Matching pink anklets and baby booties completed his horrific punishment ensemble. Well, along with thick diapers and frilly, plastic lined rhumba panties. I couldn't actually see them, with the way he was sitting. But I didn't need to see them to know that they had to be there.

“Oh crap!!!” Was my initial reaction.

“Not yet!” Maggie giggled. “But he might be wet!”

I saw absolutely no humor in the little twit's remark and I glared at her and said very sternly. “Maggie, please go to your room and play with your dolls or something!”

Surprisingly, she obeyed without any arguing or comment. Not even an “oh poop”. And she headed off upstairs.

Penny smiled and whispered to me. “It's the male presence thing.”

“Yeah, right. “ I said. “So what happened???”

“C'mon into the kitchen and I'll fill you in Steph.”

As we stepped out of the family room, I looked back at the playpen to see Michael looking up at me. Whisps of curls were peeking out from under his baby bonnet and his face was swollen with tears. I never saw a more pathetic, forlorn little creature than Michael. Well except for me.

We sat at the kitchen table and Penny said. “I'm sorry Steph. I know you were expecting Michael to be MICHAEL! So was I. I was just as shocked as you when I came over this morning!”

“So what in the hell happened?” I asked.

“Well, I'll tell you what I know from what Mrs. Morris told me. And Maggie too.”

“Didn't you think to ask Michael for his side of it all Penny?” I asked in a very snotty way.

I was taken a little aback by her words, especially the “Little Miss Smartie Pants” part. She'd never scolded me before. And on top of that, she had scolded me like I was a very little girl, not Stephen, or Stephanie at least. But I guess I had it coming and I apologized. But I did it in a rather cocky, sarcastic way to make a point.

“I'm sorry for being such a LITTLE MISS SMARTIE PANTS Penny!”

She looked at me in shock for a second or two. But then it turned into a little smirk, as the gears in her brain started turning. “Sorry Stephen.” She said softly, so only we could hear. “Poor choice of words on my part. Maybe it would have been better if I had called you a 'little prick' instead!” And she giggled and looked at me, seeking a similar reaction.

She got it...I laughed. “Yeah, little prick is better.” And I thought for a moment and added. “Well, except for the 'little' part!”

She blushed. But our mood was lightened. And I asked. “So I suppose the gag order on Michael is Maggie's ruling.”

“Like a baby GIRL!!!” I corrected in disgust. “So what caused all this?”

“Well apparently Michael and Maggie got into another big fight over one thing or another on Thursday night. And Michael punched Maggie real hard again, only in the stomach this time.”

“The little bitch...I mean snot, probably deserved it!” I said.

“Yeah, probably.” Penny agreed. “But anyways, it really knocked the wind out of her AND, it caused her to wet her pants and...”

“Good!” I jumped in.

“Well not really Steph. That's the reason Mrs. Morris has him in diapers. Now HE has to wet himself!” Penny exclaimed. “But anyhow, on Friday morning I guess Maggie really complained about how her stomach still hurt from the punch and she felt like she was gonna throw up and...”

“And Mrs. Morris bought it hook, line and sinker!” I snarled.

“I'm sure you're right Steph.” She said and continued. “So Mrs. Morris didn't send her to school. And Mrs. Morris had the day off yesterday, so she packed the twins into the car and dropped off Michael at school and she and Maggie went out shopping.”

“That's why you didn't see the twins waiting for the bus Friday morning.” I said.

“Yup! And they went shopping for the diapers and the baby dress and all the other baby girl stuff he's wearing. And when he came home from school, he became little baby Michelle! And he's spending the whole weekend as a little baby girl. And the toilet's off limits for him. But Monday morning, he'll go back to being Michael again.” And Penny sighed and took a breath and added. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot. They also bought a home permanent kit...a Tonette. And they permed his hair. Now his sausage curls are permanent!”

“But how's he gonna go to school on Monday morning with a head full of permed sausage curls???” I couldn't fathom that. “I mean, after last weekend's hair rollers, you said his hair had only a slight curl when you saw him during the week. But nothing really outrageous!”

“Yeah Steph. He looked pretty normal.” Penny replied.

“Well even if Maggie keeps her big yap shut about everything at school, how's he gonna explain his SHIRLEY TEMPLE hairdo!!!” I asked.

“Well that's the carrot that's being dangled in front of him!”

“I don't follow you Penny.” I said.

“Mrs. Morris promised him that if he behaves himself like a good little baby girl and accepts his punishment and does as he's told, she'll take an electric clipper to his hair on Sunday night and give him a buzz cut. He always gets one for summer anyways.”

“Oh God! The poor kid!” I groaned. “And no toilet for him either!”

“Yup, he's got his diapers for that.” Penny said with a sigh.

“Oh crap!!!” I said again.

“I hope not, for his sake and OURS!” And Penny wasn't making a joke.

I got up from the table. “I'm gonna talk to him Penny. See if I can make him feel a little better. Okay?”

“Sure. Good luck! He's really miserable.”

“Oh God, I know exactly how he's feeling Penny!” I said.

“I know Steph.” She consoled.

I went into the family room and knelt down in front of the playpen and rested my arms on the railing. He looked up at me in agony. “I got a good idea of how horrible all this is for you Michael.” I told him. “I'll do what I can to help you get through it.”

He couldn't reply, of course. He just sucked on his pacifier and sobbed.

I stood up, looked down at him and asked. “Do you want out of your playpen Michael?”

He shook his head up and down. “Okay then, climb on out.” I told him.

As I walked for a seat on the couch, Penny joined us in the family room. “Maggie still up in her room Penny?” I asked.

“Yup.” Penny said and she sat down next to me.

Michael crawled over in front of us and looked up. I shifted to my left to make space between me and Penny and said. “C'mon up and sit between us.”

He climbed up between us, just as a real baby would do. And I untied his baby bonnet to examine his curls. The mass of tightly permed sausage curls and ringlets still glistened from the perm solution. And they still smelled of it too.

He nodded “yes” and I took the pacifier from his mouth, leaving it dangling down the front of his baby dress. “It's okay to speak in front of me and Penny, so long as your sister's not around. But you gotta whisper Michael.”

“Okay.” He whispered.

“So why did you punch her?” I quietly asked.

He sniffled and moaned. “Maggie told me to ask my mother if I could dress up in her Alice outfit again this weekend. She said to tell mom that I really liked it and wanted to wear it again. And I told her no way!” And he sniffled again. “So Maggie said she'd tell everyone at school about how I wore it all last weekend if I didn't do what she said.” And Michael took a breath. “And so I punched her!”

“Well I can't say that I blame you Michael. But if you don't want to go to school in your Shirley Temple hairdo, you know you gotta get through this weekend as a little baby girl and do as you're told!” I warned.

“Yeah, I know.” He pouted. “But this is all just so awful. So embarrassing!”

Penny stood up and said. “Well, it's gonna be lunch time before long. I gotta get Maggie's lunch ready. And Michael's too!” And she headed for the kitchen.

The way Penny said it sounded odd. But I got up and said. “You better stick your binkie back in Michael and get back into your playpen. I'm gonna help Penny with lunch.”

Michael crawled to his “baby prison”, giving me a full view, for the first time, of his very thickly padded and ruffled behind.

“I'll help you with lunch Penny.” I said, as I walked into the kitchen.

“Great, thanks!” She said. “Be a love and go down to the basement. There's an old highchair down there. Would you bring it up?”

“Oh geez Penny, not a...”

“Yup!” She interrupted. “I'm afraid so---Mrs. Morris' rule!”

Half an hour later, Penny and I sat at the kitchen table sipping cans of soda. We watched as Maggie chewed on her peanut butter and jelly sandwhich and spoon fed Michael from three jars of Gerber baby food sitting on the tray of the highchair that Michael had been squeezed into. Much of his “lunch” wound up on his face and his baby bib.

When his “main course” was done, Maggie laughed and asked. “Is widdle Michelle weady for her dessert now?”

He sobbed and groaned and shook his head “no” as Maggie unscrewed a baby jar of stewed prunes. “Yum yum Michelle!!! Open wide sweetie!” She giggled. “Gotta keep widdle baby nice and WEGULAR!”

Lunch ended with Michael's head in Maggie's lap on the couch in the family room, where he downed two full baby bottles of formula that Maggie had insisted on. And she ordered him back into his playpen, handed him a Teddy Bear to cuddle, and clicked on the TV.

Penny and I weren't surprised that Maggie seemed a lot more interested in watching her very full and bloated “baby girl” brother squirm and fidget in his playpen, than the stupid episode of “Full House” that she had channel surfed to on the TV.

And sure enough, within the hour, the bottles of formula and the jar of stewed prunes had Michael REALLY squirming in his playpen. He'd soon lose his battle with Mother Nature.

I wanted to, at least, spare Michael the indignity of wetting and messing his diapers in front of Maggie. And I wanted to deny Maggie the satisfaction of watching him do it.

“How about some ice cream Maggie!!!” I said very cheerfully, out of the blue. And I looked at Penny and raised my eyebrows and nodded toward the kitchen.

Penny caught my cue and chimed. “Yeah Maggie, I saw some mint chip ice cream in the freezer. It's your favorite! C'mon into the kitchen and I'll give you a big bowl of it!”

The stupid little snot took the bait thankfully and said. “Yeah great Penny!” And she eagerly skipped along for the kitchen behind Penny.

I got up and walked over to the playpen. Michael was on his hands and knees now, rocking a little back and forth and crying miserably. “I know you gotta do it Michael. And I feel awful for you.” I whispered. “But at least you can do it while we're gone and no one's watching.”

As Penny and Maggie and I sat at the kitchen table eating our ice cream, I thought about the horror Michael had to be going through in his playpen. And when Maggie's bowl was empty, she dashed back for the family room and Penny and I followed behind.

“Oh pew!!! Gross!!!” Maggie cried, as she caught a whiff of the very foul smelling air in the family room. “Michelle pooped his diapers!”

“Well what did you expect, you little sh-t!” I mumbled.

“Penny...Stephie just swore at me!!!” Maggie yelled.

“No she didn't. She called you a little 'twit' Maggie!” Penny quickly replied. And I marveled at how quick on her feet Penny was becoming.

“I'll take him upstairs Penny and get him cleaned up and into fresh diapers.” I offered, though I really had no intention of me actually changing his gross, wet and poopy diapers. I'd “tutor” him on how to do it himself, like I did. And it would spare him the humiliation of having his messy diapers changed by a pretty girl who smelled good, as he had referred to me the weekend before.

“No, no, no!!!” Maggie yelled, as I headed toward the playpen pinching my nose. “My Mom said when he wets and poops his diapers, he's gotta wear them for at least an hour or more!”

“Oh God Penny, is that true???” I asked in disbelief.

“Yup, I'm afraid so .” Penny replied, with a disgusted frown on her face.

Well at least the weather was warm enough for Penny and me to open wide all the windows in the family room. And Michael sat in his mess in the playpen, bawling his eyes out in misery, until Maggie ordered him out of it and made him crawl around in an endless circle on the floor while she teased him with little mercy. The only positive thing about the whole ordeal was, at least, his diapers didn't leak.

When exactly an hour was up, I put an end to Michael's torment and told him to crawl upstairs for a diaper change.

“Oh poop!!!” Maggie complained. But I just ignored her and followed behind the stinky, pathetic “baby girl” as he crawled up the stairs in tears.

It took a long time and a lot of guidance and supervision from me to get Michael bathed and rediapered and redressed mostly on his own. But it was worth it. He was spared the humiliation of having his messy diapers changed by a girl and he'd know how to do it himself tomorrow if needed.

And Michael was very grateful. “Thanks for letting me do it on my own Stephie.” He whispered as he hugged me. And then he added. “You really smell good Stephie!”

I laughed. “You don't smell so bad yourself now Michael!” And I fiddled with the skirt of his baby dress to get it all down around his petticoats and told him to head back downstairs.

He got down on his hands and knees to crawl but I stopped him. “You can walk down Michael, at least 'til you get back to the family room.”

It was a little after four by now. Mrs. Morris was due home from work soon, thankfully. Without being told to, Michael crawled back to his playpen in the family room and climbed in and started to stack plastic colored blocks, one on top of another. I figured he was seeking refuge from his nasty sister in the confines of his “baby prison”.

And he was left to himself, mercifully, as Maggie just colored in a coloring book on the couch.

Just after five, Mrs. Morris came home. I hadn't actually met Mrs. Morris so Penny introduced me and she thanked Penny and I for babysitting. As she searched through her purse for her wallet to pay Penny, she asked how things had gone. I didn't want to be involved in that conversation and I excused myself to walk over to the playpen.

I leaned down and whispered to Michael. “For your own sake Michael, don't get in any trouble tonight! Do as you're told so you can have those sausage curls buzzed off tomorrow night for school on Monday.”

He looked up, su-king on his binkie, and nodded “yes”.

Outside, Penny asked. “Will you walk me to my door honey, before you head for home?”

“Sure Penny!” I smiled.

We walked and she headed us around to her back door. “Thanks Steph, you were a huge help. And you even changed Michael's diapers! “

“Not really Penny. “ I confessed. “I taught him how to do it himself, like I sometimes have to do.” And I blushed.

She giggled a little and joked. “Well, keep your diapers clean on your walk home Steph!” And she looked around to see that the coast was clear and she kissed me. “I love you Stephen.” She whispered in my ear.

“I love you too Penny.” I whispered back. “I'll be back tomorrow morning after church.”

Sunday morning after mass, as Grandma and I pulled out of the church parking lot, Grandma said. “You know Steph, it's still pretty wet out after that big thunder storm we had last night. And still a bit overcast too.”

“Yup, it sure was a noisy one!” I said.

“Yeah, it woke me up several times during the night.” Grandma said. “But anyway, why don't you let me drive you to babysitting today?”

“Great, thanks Gram! But I'll probably be able to walk home. It's supposed to clear up this afternoon.”

We got home and I quickly changed out of my “Sunday go to church” dress and stockings and heels and into something simpler for babysitting. And Grandma drove me to the Morris'.

I knocked on the door and Penny opened it, with a big grin on her face. “Hi Steph, c'mon in.” She said, and then she lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “I got some news for you that I think you're gonna really enjoy!”

“Is Michelle, Michael now? No dress? No diapers?” I hopefully asked.

“I'm afraid it's not that Stephie. He's still Baby Michelle in diapers.” She replied. “But anyhow, let's step outside for a minute so we can talk more freely. Michael's in his playpen and Maggie's at the kitchen table coloring some pictures for school. They'll be fine.”

Outside, I asked. “So what's the good news Penny?”

“Well...Michael's not the only one wearing diapers today!!!” Penny exclaimed.

“What do you mean? Are you talking about me???” I stupidly asked, thinking she was cracking on me.

“Nooo silly!!!” She groaned. “”I'm talking about MAGGIE!!!”

“Maggie's in diapers!” I cried. “You gotta be kidding! That's just too perfect to be true!”

“Well...let me pop back inside for a minute to check on the twins first. You stay here, I'll be right back.”

And she returned in less than a minute. “So Steph...apparently Maggie's been prone to occasionally having accidents in her panties. She'll sometimes wet herself if something suddenly scares her or shocks or surprises her.”

“Like Michael's punch to the stomach!” I said.

“Yeah Steph.” She agreed and added. “I'm surprised the punch in her face, before that, didn't cause her to pee her pants. And this was all new to me this morning when Mrs. Morris told me. I'm surprised she never said anything about Maggie's problem before today. I'm mean, I'm her baby...”

“Okay, okay Penny! But why's she in diapers today?” I impatiently asked.

“All right!” She scorned. “Well you know that big loud thunderstorm we had last night?”

“Yeah.”

“Well it scared the crap out of Maggie!” And Penny giggled at her own gaffe. “Well...I mean the pee out of her. She totally wet herself in bed last night. And this morning when Mrs. Morris discovered it...well...I guess she'd had enough of it all and put Maggie in diapers and plastic pants. She said it was for protection.”

“Maybe more for punishment!” I said.

“Yup! That too, probably.” Penny agreed.

“Well this is all just sooo perfect!” And I looked skyward and held my arms up and exclaimed. “Thank you God! Just perfect!!!”

Penny grimaced a little at my idiotic display and said. “Well it's not quite that perfect Steph! Unlike her brother, Maggie is allowed to use the toilet. The diapers are for protection, just in case.”

“Still, I think it's GREAT Penny!”

“I knew you'd love it.” She said. “But c'mon, we gotta get back inside to the twins.”

As we headed into the house, I immediately started thinking about how I could take advantage of this golden opportunity.

Inside, in the family room, Michael sat in his playpen. He looked just like he had last night when Penny and I left. Only not quite as forlorn. I leaned down and said. “Be strong Michael. Less than one day to go. Remember...you don't want to have those awful sausage curls tomorrow for school!”

He nodded his head up and down.

In the kitchen, the little “sour puss” was still coloring her pictures for school. And she really was a “sour puss”. Her face was bright red with anger and embarrassment. She looked like she was fit to be tied.

She was wearing one of her normal tops, a pale pink T-shirt sort of thing. It reached to just a little below the waistband of the wonderfully frilly and prissy, pink and white lace timmed and ruffled rhumba panties that covered her thick diapers. She wore just her pink slippers on her feet.

“Hi Maggie. “ I said, with an intentional laugh.

“Hi Stephie.” She snarled, with a tear trickling down her cheek.

I just left it at that.

Maggie's diapers turned out to be a real godsend for Michael. Maggie was just too distraught and too caught up in her own diaper dilemma to focus on tormenting “Baby Michelle”. She largely just left him alone.

At lunch, she didn't argue at all when Penny and I let Michael “walk” into the kitchen and sit at the table and eat lunch with us. No highchair! No baby bib! No spoon fed baby food! But her spirits did pick up enough to feed him a baby bottle of formula on the couch in the family room. But only one! And beyond that, she really had nothing to do with her brother. Maggie just went upstairs to her bedroom to sulk. Today was a total polar opposite of yesterday. And I was very happy for Michael, who was content to just sit in his playpen in peace.

Just before two, Penny stood at the bottom of the stairs and called up.”Maggie, why don't you come downstairs. I'm gonna bake some peanut butter cookies! And you can help! They're your favorite!”

“No!” Maggie shouted back. “I don't wanna!”

“Aw, c'mon Maggie. I need your help!” Penny coaxed.

“No!”

“You're not wet, are you?” Penny asked.

“NO I'M NOT!!!” Maggie shouted back.

Penny gave up with the shouting and walked upstairs. She obviously took pity on Maggie, which I totally couldn't understand. Maggie deserved to be in diapers and much worse, after all she had done to her brother lately. Maggie had eased up on him today. But if she wasn't in diapers and rhumba panties herself, she'd be teasing the crap out of him, literally! Penny's pity for Maggie made no sense to me. Maybe it was a “girl thing”, I thought. One of the few “girl things” I hadn't acquired.

Well, Penny was a very convincing young lady, which I knew from experience. Because just after two, she and little “sour puss” were busy baking away in the kitchen.

I walked into the kitchen and asked. “Do you care if I go out to the backyard for some fresh air Penny? The weather's cleared up and Michael's fine on his own in his playpen.”

“How are Michael's diapers Steph?”

“Still clean and dry!” I replied. And then I asked, just to annoy Maggie. “How are Maggie's diapers Penny?”

Maggie glared at me and made a face.

“She's fine Steph. Go on out and get some fresh air.” Penny said. And then she thought a moment and asked. “Have you gone to the potty since we've been here Maggie?”

Maggie blushed with embarrassment and shook her head “no” and made another face.

“Well remember, you're to use it when you need too. You don't wanna go in your diapers Maggie! They're only for just in case!” She told her.

“I know! I will!!! I'm not gonna be a little baby girl in messy diapers like Michelle!” She snarled.

“A little baby girl in messy diapers” I thought, as I stepped into the back yard. That was just what I had in mind for little “sour puss”. I had lied about wanting some fresh air. I just wanted to be alone so I could concentrate on figuring out a way to make Maggie go in her diapers. And time was running out. Mrs. Morris would be home in about three hours.

I sat down to think at the picnic table in the yard. And before long, I noticed a couple of little field mice darting back and forth between the trash cans along side the back of the house.

“Oh my God!” I said to myself. “Perfect! If only I could...”

And I thought for a minute or two and got up and mumbled. “Yeah, that's it! That just might work.”

I headed back inside. Penny and Maggie were busy at the kitchen counter placing little balls of cookie dough on a baking sheet.

“How's it going girls?” I asked, as I looked around the kitchen for what I wanted.

“Great Steph, we'll have some ready before too long and you can try them.” Penny called over her shoulder.

I looked around some more. But no luck!

“It's getting warm outside. I need a drink.” I said, as an excuse for being there.

As I walked to the fridge, I looked down into the trash pail next to it. “Yes!” I said out loud without realizing it.

“What'd you say Steph?” Penny called over her shoulder again.

“Oh nothin' Penny.” I replied, as I grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. And I looked over to Penny and Maggie. They were still busy with the cookie dough, their backs still to me. I reached into the trash pail and picked up an empty peanut butter jar and quickly made my way back out to the yard.

I knew mice liked peanut butter. I'd seen my Father use it to bait mouse traps when we had a problem with the pesky little critters. I unscrewed the jar lid and there was still plenty left inside to attract a little mouse.

I pulled a picnic bench up close to the trash cans and sat down and set the peanut butter jar on its side in front of me. I leaned over it, holding the lid in one hand, and waited very patiently and very quietly. And I kept VERY still.

The wait was pretty long and really tedious. But I kept my vigil. And sure enough, after awhile, a little mouse came up and started sniffing the jar. And when it crawled inside enough, I pounced. I slapped the lid over the jar and screwed it on tight.

“Gotcha!” I said. And I was very pleased with my ingenuity.

The clock on the wall said 2:48 as I came back into the kitchen, holding the jar behind me. A little more than two hours until Mrs. Morris would get home.

Penny and Maggie were standing at the kitchen table, with their backs to me again, busy scraping cookies, just from the oven, off a baking sheet.

Perfect, I thought. Almost too perfect! The planets were all aligned for me today.

I kept my eyes glued on their backs as I quickly but quietly held the peanut butter jar in front of me and unscrewed the lid. I moved a little closer to them and took off the lid and released the mouse, just behind them.

I tossed the jar back in the trash and shrieked as girlishly as I possibly could. “Oh my God, a MOUSE!!! Watch out Maggie, it's right behind you!!!” And I jumped up on a chair in pretend fear.

They turned around and saw it and they both screamed even louder than me. And like me, they quickly hopped up onto chairs, shaking with fear.

“Do something Stephie!” Penny shouted. And she pointed to a small closet and cried. “There's a broom in there. See if you can swat it!”

“But it's gone now Penny! We scared it away!” I shouted.

“The hell it's gone Steph! It's over there by the sink!”

Maggie was wailing and shaking uncontrollably by now. And Penny wasn't much better. I got down off the chair and fetched the broom. The girls kept their places.

I tried to smack it, but it just scampered away every time. So I thought for a moment. And I took a cookie off the table and set it down near a corner of the kitchen.

“Shhh!!!” I said to Penny and Maggie, who were still shaking and crying, perched on their chairs. “You're scaring it.”

They settled down, but only just a little. And I stood ready to strike in front of the cookie. It did take awhile, but finally the mouse approached the bait and started to sniff it. And I struck!

“Whap!!!” But I'd only stunned it. “Whap! Whap!!!” It was going down for the count. “Whap! Whap! Whap!!!” And the deed was done.

“You got it Steph! Good work!!!” Penny shouted. “Now get that awful thing out of here!”

I wanted to gross them out even more. Well, just Maggie really. So I picked it up by the tail and dangled it in front of them. “He's a goner!” I exclaimed.

“Ewwww!!!” They both screamed in unison. And I took it out to the trash.

I was back in a flash and they were both down off their chairs. Maggie's hands were covering her face and she was sobbing in misery. Penny was desperately trying to console her.

I washed my hands and walked over to them. And I was greeted by the awful smell of wet AND POOPY diapers. I'd hit a double! And the mouse hadn't died in vain.

“Well c'mon Maggie. I'll take you upstairs and get you cleaned up and changed.” Penny groaned.

I stopped her. “Hold up Penny. I thought you told me that Mrs. Morris said if Maggie used her diapers, she'd have to stay in them for at least an hour. Just like Michael!”

“No!!!” Maggie pleaded. And she covered her face with her hands again and sobbed some more.

Fortunately, Penny wasn't quick to reply. She just gave me a very puzzled look. So I raised my eyebrows and winked at her.

She caught my drift. “Hmmm!” She sighed, with a crooked, half hearted little smirk on her face. And I thought she wasn't going to go along.

“Well...yeah, you're right Stephie.” Penny said.

I smiled and mouthed to her “thank you”. Penny just rolled her eyes.

And Maggie shouted. “Oh poop!!! Please change me now Penny!”

“Good choice of words Maggie!” I sarcastically said.

Maggie just stomped her feet. And Penny looked at me and scolded. “Stop it Steph.”

“Well what do we do with you now Maggie?” Penny said, really just thinking out loud.

“Listen Penny, I'm sure Michael needs a diaper change by now. I'll take him upstairs and get him squared away and Maggie can sit in the playpen.” I suggested.

“No, not the playpen!!!” Maggie begged.

“Yeah Steph, that'll work I guess. Just be sure the windows are cracked open.” She told me.

I went to the playpen. I could tell from the smell that Michael did indeed need a diaper change. I sent him upstairs, telling him I'd be up in a minute to supervize him changing his own diapers.

I hung back a minute or two just for the pleasure of watching Maggie climb into the playpen and sit down in her wet, messy diapers. And she was beside herself with anger and humiliation. She couldn't have been more miserable. And I'd more than achieved my goal.

One hour later, at quarter to five, Penny stood in front of the playpen. “Okay Maggie, I'll get you cleaned up and into fresh diapers now.” Penny said, fanning her nose. “But before we head upstairs, I'm gonna make you a deal. If you don't tell your mother about the mouse in the house, I won't tell her about the mess in your diapers! If she finds out that you not only wet them, but pooped them too---well, who knows what she might do? Deal Maggie?”

“Okay Penny.” Maggie sobbed. “Just get me outta these diapers!!!”

Michael took Maggie's place in the playpen and Penny and Maggie headed upstairs. I walked to the playpen and crouched down. “Just a few more hours Michael. You can do it!”

He pulled the pacifier from his mouth and whispered. “I will Stephie.” And he smiled up at me. “Thank you. You're really pretty and you smell...”

“I know, I know.” I cut him off and giggled. “And you smell good now too Michael.” He really was a sweet kid. I'm sure a real girl would have given him a hug and a peck on the cheek. But with me, he had to go “hugless” and “peckless”.

I sat on the couch and clicked on the TV and waited for Penny and Maggie to return. And I wondered why Penny made the deal about the mouse and Maggie's messy diapers. I'd love to have Mrs. Morris find out that Maggie had wet and pooped her diapers. Maybe she'd keep Maggie in diapers indefinitely. Send her to school in them even! But I wouldn't go against what Penny had said.

A minute after five, Penny and Maggie came into the family room. Despite her clean diapers and rhumba panties, Maggie was still a little “sour puss”. And that, of course, put a smile on my face.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Morris got home. She and Penny settled up and Penny and I were on our way. As we walked over for Penny's back door, I said. “I gotta ask you something Penny.”

“Oh really! Cuz I gotta ask you something Steph!” Penny exclaimed, as we reached her back door. She pointed to the bench on the back porch and said. “Sit down for a few minutes so we can talk. You have plenty of time to get home.”

She sat down beside me and said. “Okay, you first Steph.”

“Well, why did you make that deal with Maggie about the mouse and her messy diapers Penny? If Mrs. Morris knew about Maggie's mess, she'd probably keep her in diapers FOREVER!”

“Forever!!!” Penny laughed.

“Well you know what I mean. You let Maggie off the hook. Why so much sympathy for that little brat?”

“I didn't do it out of sympathy for Maggie! I probably have almost as little sympathy for her as you do Steph.”

“Then why?” I asked.

“I did it so I wouldn't get in trouble with Mrs. Morris.” She replied. “Despite the last few weekends, I don't wanna lose her as a babysitting customer. She pays well and I can use the money.”

“But a mouse getting into the house isn't your fault Penny!” I argued.

“You're absolutely right Steph. It's not MY fault!!!”

She caught me off guard with that. And I probably looked like the cat who'd just swallowed the canary. And I gulped. “Ah...what...um...what do...”

“Aw c'mon Steph!” She broke in, with a little giggle. “I know you pretty well. And I know why you did it. But I can't begin to figure out how you did it.”

“Did what Penny?” I was really grasping at straws now.

And she just out right laughed at me. “Oh God Stephie, it's a good thing I love you so much!” She said, shaking her head. “Okay Steph---HOW'D YOU GET THE MOUSE IN THE HOUSE? You know, you almost made me wet myself!” And she blushed.

“The peanut butter jar.” I muttered, much shagrinned.

“The what???”

“I trapped it in the peanut butter jar that I found in the kitchen trash. And I brought it inside the house and let it out. I'm sorry Penny!”

She just rolled her eyes, so I continued. “But like you said Penny, it wasn't your fault. It was mine! I'd be the one in trouble if Mrs. Morris somehow thought or figured out that the mouse in the house was no accident. And that would never happen anyways.”

“You never know Steph. I knew it was no accident. I knew you did it.” And she took a deep breath. “And if Mrs. Morris somehow thought you did it, I'd lose her business. It's guilt by association Steph---you brought the mouse into her house, but I brought YOU into her house.”

I knew it was time to put on the “adoring and very contrite” face and I did, genuinely so.

Penny shook her head again and rolled her eyes again. But she did it with a grin on her face. “To be honest Stephie, ninety percent of me applauds what you did. But the other ten percent wants to give you a good spanking!”

And she gasped and started to blush from embarrassment and fumbled for her words. “Did I just say that! I didn't mean it like I really want to spank---I mean, it's just a figure of speech---I'd never actually---please don't think that I'd---oh c'mon Steph, you know what I meant.”

I have to admit to probably letting her dangle on the hook too long. But she was just so cute and sweet trying to wiggle off it. I looked around to be sure that no one would see and I kissed her behind her ear and said. “Relax Penny. I know YOU pretty well. I know you meant it as a figure of speech. Really!”

She smiled and looked around and gave me a quick kiss and whispered. “Thanks darling, I love you!” And then she raised her voice to just shy of a shout. “NOW WILL YOU PLEASE GO HOME!”

I laughed. “Will do. See ya on the bus Penny!”

“See ya on the bus Steph!”

Monday morning, I eagerly boarded the bus and sat down next to Penny. “Did you see the twins out waiting for their bus this morning???”

“Yup,” was all Penny said.

“Well!!!”

“Well what Steph?” It was her turn to dangle me on the hook a bit.

“C'mon Penny! Michael? Sausage curls???”

She smiled. “Well let's just say his head looked like a fuzzy peach!” She giggled. “He got his buzz cut.”

“Great!!! Thank God!”

“And I couldn't really tell for sure,” Penny added with a grin. “but Maggie's dungarees looked a little bulkier around the waist than usual.”

“You're kidding!”

“I don't really know Steph. She was too far away.”

The next couple of weeks went by pretty quickly and, thank goodness, pretty uneventfully. No jobs babysitting the twins for Penny. And it was well into June now and school was winding down and graduation from Sacred Heart Academy was just around the corner. And best of all, in the Fall both Penny and I would be freshmen together at Truman High, the public high school in Johnsonville. And for the first time in over a year, I'd be Stephen again, permanently. Stephanie would be no more when summer was over.

Grandma bought me a new pretty dress for the graduation ceremony and offered to throw me a graduation party. I declined, since I'd only been at Sacred Heart for a short time. And besides, Penny would have a big party. She'd done K-8 there.

The graduation was held on the fourth Friday of June and it was really just a very small, simple affair. Not like a high school or college graduation. And it was probably for that reason, that Grandma didn't press me to invite Dad and my stepmother and Laura. And that was fine with me.

After Penny's party that evening, when all the other girls had gone home, Penny and I just quietly sat alone on her back porch enjoying the warm, early summer evening.

“A penny for your thoughts Steph!” Penny said.

“A Penny!” I replied with a little sigh. “I'd love a Penny for my thoughts.”

She gave me a curious look and asked. “What do you mean Steph?”

I looked around to be sure we were truly alone and took a deep breath. “Penny? Next Fall when I'm Stephen again, will you still---well---will you still love me like you do now???”

She thought a moment and said. “No Steph.” And for a millisecond, my heart sank a mile until she added. “I'll love you even more!!!”

And she smiled and kissed me. “But only on one condition darling.” And she chuckled and took my hand. “Only if we can play dressup every once in a great while! Please?”

“Aw Penny, not that!” And I argued my case with. “Besides, I won't have my long hair!” And I tossled my ponytail.

“Well don't get a buzz cut like Michael!” She laughed, though I knew she was serious.

I groaned, but gave her a little grin. “Well only if it's only every once in a great, GREAT while Penny!”

She smiled back. “That's a deal Stephie.” She agreed with a shake of my hand. And then she thought some more and asked. “Speaking of Stephen, how are you gonna explain it all?”

“What do you mean Penny?”

“Well, where's Stephanie gonna go all of a sudden? And why? And how come Stephen's gonna pop up out of the blue? And what about their resemblance?”

“Oh Penny, I already got that all planned out. It's easy. I'm a pro at that sort of thing, believe me!”

“Yeah, I believe you Steph, but so how are you going to pull it off?” She asked.

“Well, Stephen and Stephanie are twins Penny.”

“Twins!” She exclaimed.

“Yeah---like Michael and Maggie. Those two look an awful lot a like!”

“Yeah but...”

I cut her off. “Anyway, Stephanie goes back to live at home with her parents and it's Stephen's turn to come live with his grandmother. And start school at Truman.”

“Yeah but what about our relationship, Stephanie to Stephen?” Penny asked.

“Well, you'll be heart broken that your best friend is gone, of course. But you'll meet her twin brother Stephen at school and we'll strike up a relationship and play it from there.”

Penny raised her eyebrows in doubt and said. “It''ll be tricky to pull off Steph!”

“Not if we both play our parts Penny. We'll take it slow.”

“Well, I gotta admit that it'll sure be nice to not have to hide our affections in public Steph. We can truly be boyfriend and girlfriend!”

“Me too Penny, I can't wait!” And I reached into my purse for my cell phone. “Well I better call my Grandmother now to come get me. It'll be dark soon and she prefers to not drive after sunset.”

“Hold on Steph, I got something else to tell you.” And she didn't look happy about it. “Call her and tell her my Mom or Dad will drive you home. My parents won't mind.”

After I called Grandma, I asked. “So what's up Penny?”

She had a tear in her eye. “Steph, I'm afraid I got some bad news. Remember awhile back, I told you my parents were thinking of sending me to Camp Sunnyvale for the summer!”

“Oh God no!!!” I gasped.

She nodded her head up and down and burst into tears. “I leave this Tuesday and won't be back 'til the end of August!”

“Oh Hell!” I exclaimed. “We won't get to spend the summer together!” And I was such a girl by now that I started to bawl too. And I took some tissues from my purse for me and Penny.

Penny whispered. “Well maybe you could go with me for the summer to Camp Sunnyvale too Steph!” She was grasping at straws.

I dried my eyes and said. “Oh Penny, I can get away with being Stephanie here. But an entire summer living at a camp for girls, REAL girls---no way I could pull that off!” And I didn't need to tell her that there was no way I wanted to even go near Camp Sunnyvale and, especially, it's next door neighbor, Camp Sissy Curls.

“Well could you come visit me there with my parents when they come? Please!” She sobbed.

“I can't! A lot of the girls that'll probably be there will know me from last summer and blow my cover in front of your parents. I'm sorry Penny!” And I sure didn't want to risk running into the likes of maybe Lisa or Sally Jo Reynolds.

We just sat silently in tears for a couple more minutes until I said. “C'mon Penny, ask your mom or dad to drive me home. I better get going.”

“But when will I see you again Steph?” She asked in panic. “I want us to spend as much time together before I leave on Tuesday!”

“Oh definitely Penny! You can count on that! I'll call you in the morning.”

I called her Saturday morning and she came over to spend the afternoon and evening. And we really didn't do a whole lot. We both just kind of moped around in pity and sorrow.

Grandma knew by now about Penny and camp and at supper time, probably to pick up our spirits, offered to take us out for dinner.

“Okay Grandma, just not that Perkins we went to the last time.” I said. “Or anything around it in that area!”

“Sure Stephie.” Grandma agreed. “If you feel like a little Italian girls, there's an Olive Garden not too far, just off the interstate.” And she looked at me. “And it's in the OPPOSITE direction Stephie!”

“Yeah, that sounds good Grandma.” And Penny agreed.

“Well get cleaned up a bit girls and we'll go when you're ready.”

Penny looked down at herself to see the old, worn and faded top and ratty shorts and beat up sandals she was wearing. I guess she'd dressed to suit her mood.

“Oh, maybe we better make it a McDonald's drive thru or something Mrs. Crandall.” She groaned. “I look like a slob!”

Grandma thought for a second and said. “Not a problem Penny. Stephie can give you something of her's to wear!”

“Yeah Penny!” I confirmed.

As we headed upstairs, Grandma called. “Separate rooms girls and protection for you Stephie! And for heaven's sake Steph, be sure to make good use of the toilet first! Remember the last time the three of us went out to dinner.”

“Yes Grandma!” I crossly yelled back in embarrassment.

“Yes Mrs. Crandall.” Penny said sweetly, with a giggle.

And in the upstairs hallway, Penny begged and pleaded. “Please Stephie! Please, just one last time!!! Do it for me!”

“Aw geez Penny!!!” I groaned.

Grandma wasn't surprised when, after almost an hour, the exact same two pretty, little eight year old girls she'd taken to Perkins pranced into the living room holding hands.

Grandma laughed. “I figured that was what you two were up too when you were taking so long to get ready!” And she straightened one of the bows in Penny's braid loops and smoothed the back of my dress over my petticoats and said. “But I do so enjoy taking the two prettiest little girls I've ever seen out to dinner!”

Penny curtsied. “Thank you Mrs. Crandall.”

As we headed out the door, Penny stopped and said. “I'm sorry. Will you hold on? I forgot to use the bathroom. I'll just be a minute!” And she hurried toward the stairs and I followed right behind her.

At the top of the stairs, I stopped her. I knew, like the last time, she was planning to diaper up like me, in case I had an accident in mine again.

“Hold on Penny, you don't need diapers!” I told her.

“Are you sure Steph?” She asked.

“Yes, I'm sure Penny! I won't have any accidents.”

“Okay then, if you're sure!” She said in relief. “Going in my diapers last time was really gross!”

Yeah, tell me about it, I thought.

Dinner at the Olive Garden was pretty uneventful. Just the usual gushing by ladies over two pretty, prissy little girls. And I had no need of my diapers at all.

Sunday morning after mass, I walked to Penny's to spend the afternoon and evening with her. It would be our last day together before she went to camp. She'd be busy all day Monday with her mom, shopping and packing for Sunnyvale on Tuesday.

Like Saturday, we didn't do much more than commiserate over her spending the entire summer at camp. That is until after dinner anyway! Mr. and Mrs. Lane took her brother shopping for something he wanted. And Penny and I didn't have to go. We'd have a couple of hours to ourselves. And we made the most of it!

We spent that time in her bedroom, passionately making out. And Penny even took off her blouse and bra. And she was gorgeous! And she spent a lot of time with her hand in the front of my diapers! But we didn't go any further than that. We were good Catholic schoolgirls after all!

And I did wet my diapers this time! Twice actually!! But not with pee.

When we heard the sound of the Lane's car in the driveway, we quickly straightened ourselves up and headed downstairs. We greeted them and made our way out to the back porch for privacy.

“Listen Penny.” I warned. “If you meet a girl named Lisa or Sally Jo at camp, avoid them like the plague!”

“Okay Steph, I will.”

“And keep away from Camp Sissy Curls, as best best you can! Avoid those poor boys! I don't want you to see what I went through!”

“Okay Steph, I understand.”

“But if you do run across them Penny, be kind!”

“Definitely Steph!!!” Penny said and she paused, with crocodile tears streaming down her face. “I'm gonna call you as much as I can Steph. And write you every day! Please write me back!”

“Of course I will Penny!” And I kissed her. And we just sat silently for a few more minutes, holding hands.

And it was getting late by now. And the ride home in the Lane's car was a real tear jerker for the both of us!

Monday morning at the breakfast table, Grandma said. “I have some...well...probably some bad news for you Stephie.”

“You're not sick, are you Grandma?”

“No sweetie, nothing like that.” And she hesitated, not eager to continue.

“Well what then Grandma?” I asked.

“Well...after breakfast, we have to go upstairs and get you packed.” She said, with a very sad look on her face.

“Packed!!!” I cried. “Oh God no! I'm not going back home to live, am I??? I can't go back there! And I can't go to school there!!!”

“No Stephie, you're not going home!” She exclaimed. “THIS is still your home! And you're still going to Truman High as Stephen in the Fall. I promise you!!!”

I was in a state of panic. “Well why do I need to pack then???”

Grandma sighed. “Well...I'm afraid your Dad and stepmother are picking you up tomorrow morning to take you back to Camp Sissy Curls for the summer.”